


When Night Falls Again

by lar_laughs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, First Order, RPG
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-03-27
Updated: 2011-06-15
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:38:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 134,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lar_laughs/pseuds/lar_laughs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where Dumbledore fell to Grindelwald, there is little good to be had.  There is, however, a group of people who have found each other and are working to make the world a better place for everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It All Started With You (Prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work-in-progress RPG of lar_laughs and aster. I've been told that it will have an ending!

It wouldn’t have been his first choice after spending a week in Peru, but it was hard to turn down a warm meal from Arabella (Adi) Figge. The woman cooked better than any person Caradoc had ever known and after a week of surviving on Fabian Prewett’s eggs and toast, Caradoc’s stomach was winning out over all of his other desires. Besides, Fabian had told him that Cam’s team was back in town and there was a good possibility he’d be at the dinner tonight. It had been far too long since he’d talked to his old friend, let alone seen him.

Despite its use as a headquarters and training facility for their group, the Beach House where Loah and Adi lived always felt warm and welcoming to Caradoc. This time was no different as he crossed the threshold of the wards and was welcomed with a wave from the hostess as she scurried back to the kitchen. Fabian clapped him on the back and disappeared, leaving Caradoc free to wander through the house in search of his old friend.

His first stop, however, was to the kitchen to place a gentle kiss on Adi’s cheek and present himself as her humble servant. She would never take him up on his offers of assistance, but he figured he looked good if he seemed like he was willing to help her out. She did not disappoint him and he was rewarded with a laugh and a cold ale pressed into his hands before she shooed him up to the library to wait for dinner. He squeezed her waist before turning and making his way to the stairs and up to the library.

The laugh that came from the room widened Cara’s smile and he lengthened his stride until he was inside the library’s doors. “Camillo Figge. Good to see you alive and kicking, mate,” he said as the large man stood. With the view to the fireplace now unobstructed, Cara could see the girl who was standing in front of it. He took in the way her back stiffened and he knew she was just as surprised to hear his voice as he was to see her. "Hello, Quinn," he said before raising a questioning brow in Cam's direction.

"Hello, Cara," Quinn whispered, feeling as if even that was too loud in the quiet room. She'd felt energized after the long stay in Algiers, ready to get back into the swing of things after the long break. Not that it was a break, Cam kept reminding her. They'd taken on a longer job, one that required some planning on-site and a bit of undercover that she'd adored.

All that energy drained from her now that she was seeing Cara for the first time since she'd deliriously fled from Hogwarts in pain not even a year ago. She'd run, not only from the group that was finding their fun in traumatising her, but also from her growing feelings for the tall man now standing in front of her. He was taller and his shoulders were so much more broad than they had been. His intense eyes and slight frown weren't any different but he was wearing his hair a little longer. It suited him.

She looked over to see how Cam was reacting to this development but he was smiling as if he was feeling very proud of himself. In fact, he looked like he'd known about Cara being here all along. Could this be why they'd taken a job in North Africa and never come home? She questioned why they hadn't taken any breaks, not even for the traditional Sunday dinners that Adi could somehow create out of a sack of potatoes and nothing else, but Cam had been firm that they stay in place.

 _He knew. And he didn't tell me._ Her knees started to give way so she sat down in the chair she'd recently vacated to get warmer near the fireplace. She pretended to find interest in the crackling fire as Cam took over the conversation but she was so acutely aware of Cam that she could only hear him breathing. Everything else was insubstantial to the point that she found herself struggling to remember where she was. Cara was here now and that should have felt good but Quinn didn't think this pain was quite on par with the pleasure she should have been feeling.

"How was the jungle?" Cam asked, walking over to greet his friend with a one-armed hug. He was keeping up a never-ending stream of questions as if he was talking to himself. "You look good. Must have got some sun while you were down there. How were the bugs this time of year? Did they eat you alive?"

Caradoc's attention moved back to Quinn when she spoke and he held her gaze for a moment. When she turned her eyes to Cam, Cara felt a slight tick somewhere far inside himself. He turned his own gaze back to his mate, a smirk falling into place as he returned the man's greeting. "Of course they did. Didn't you know that no living thing can resist me? It drives Fab mad with envy. Thankfully, your brother sent us with a lotion and you know I had it on the moment we left that jungle. Made it so I can stand here without itching like a loon."

They moved back to a set of high back chairs, slightly away from the fire. "And what of Algiers? You lot were gone quite some time." His eyes traveled to Quinn for a moment. He supposed he could understand somewhat why that was now. Though why Cam had kept Quinn's presence from him was a mystery. It wasn't as if he was likely to start a row the first time he saw her. Sure, he would have had a few choice words for her last December, but time had passed now. He'd really just wanted to know she was safe at this point. He saw now that she was. She always had been and always would be safe with Camillo Figge. "Have any trouble?"

"Not anything we couldn't handle. Right, Quinn? Got into a sticky situation now and then but she always got us out of them."

Quinn felt slightly nauseous as she looked over to see Cam beaming at her. If this kept up, he was liable to start telling _Quinn_ stories all night long until she reacted. There were stories she didn't want Cara knowing and, if she knew Cam, those would be the first stories he'd tell. "Stuff it, Figge. You were just telling me what a horrible job I did. Don't try to sugar coat it now that we have company."

She stood up, smoothing down the wrinkles along the front of her shirt. Of course she would be wearing the horrible chambray shirt that she only ever wore when she was behind on laundry. That wasn't Cam's fault but she was still blaming him. As a matter of fact, she was going to heap most of the fault for this situation at Cam's feet. No matter what, she was going to get out of this situation with her head held high and she most certainly couldn't do that huddled here in the corner.

"So, how long have you been with The Group?" she asked as she walked over to where they were sitting. "No one thought to mention you were here now but then you were the one who convinced Cam to check them out in the first place."

He watched the play between the two, noting Cam’s pleased expression and the way Quinn’s shoulders were still tight. When she moved towards them, he stood and nodded, remembering Quinn’s anxious state when he and Cam had first talked about Gideon’s group. Then, by the time he and Cam had begun to have serious conversations about joining, Caradoc had thought it would be the three of them fighting the good fight together. Yet, when Cam had left school and Quinn had reverted into herself, he no longer saw the three of them as an option. Given his last encounters with her, and the way she had left school so abruptly, this was the last place he had expected to run into Quinn. Not to mention sitting here listening to Cam beam that she had gotten them out of a jam or two. It wasn’t that he didn’t think she had it in her, she’d been a mastermind during his Sixth Year as they had plotted different strategies, yet she lacked the necessary confidence. Clearly something being with Cam again had given her back.

He gave a derisive snort at her choice of words, _we have company_ and then shrugged. “Since I graduated, of course.” He would have returned the question but he was pretty sure he knew the answer and frankly, he didn’t want to talk about that time.

Caradoc gestured for her to take the chair. “What kinds of escapades did you wiggle out of then?”

Instead of taking the chair he offered, as she should have remembered that he would because Cara was a gentlemen to the core and nothing would ever change that, she pulled out her wand and pulled over the one she'd been sitting in. "More comfortable," she murmured when he gave her a tight look. It had been showing off, of course. She couldn't help herself. The broken girl she'd been only a few months before would have gladly accepted the chair but since she'd sworn never, ever to be like that again, she couldn't give him the benefit of the kind gesture.

As she listened to Cam taking over the conversation, she watched Cara while keeping her eyes trained on Cam. It wasn't the easiest way to watch him but if she kept her head to the side, he was almost directly behind Cam. She could only hope that it looked like she was watching Cam instead of Cara but it probably didn't matter because Cara wasn't sparring her a single glance.

And why would he look at her? Not only had she run from him and most likely left him angry and without a reason for what she did, but she wasn't even giving him the time of day. What could she say to him that would make any of this better?

"I still have your Christmas present," she blurted out as the thought came to her. Cam tried to continue on his story about the Blasted-Ended Skrewt but he'd completely lost Cara's attention. She brushed the ends of her hair off her shoulder, wondering again when the blonde would fade and leave her with her normal red hair again. It was still uncomfortable for her to be in a disguise when she didn't need to be but the charm was particular sticky one that she couldn't do much about. "Upstairs. I still have it."

So much for not talking about that month. It was a strange sensation, almost as if time suddenly slowed down. He turned his head to Quinn at her announcement but could still hear Cam talking as if she hadn’t even spoken. Caradoc frowned as he looked at her. Finally, he shook his head. “Just keep it.”

It came out a bit ruder than he had meant it to, but he hadn’t been expecting her to keep a gift for him. He certainly hadn’t kept hers that year. Trying to soften his words, he added, “I don’t have anything for you.” Or maybe he had. He couldn’t recall now if he’d chucked it in the bin or had just shoved it back into his trunk. Either way, he had no intentions of giving it to her so his statement was true.

The tears that sprang to her eyes were easy enough to get rid of although the aching in her stomach would stick with her for awhile. With a few deep breaths, she had herself under control once again. Her hands were quivering in her lap but she gripped at her legs through her trousers, wishing she'd worn a skirt so she could have clutched at a handful of the fabric.

"No problem. I'm sure I can find some use for it." A lie but it wasn't like she would admit that the monogrammed crest she'd spent hours stitching to the front of the deep black wool of the cape was some of her best work.

But she had to thank him because in that moment, Quinn realized that she didn't have to be nervous around this man any longer. He wasn't angry with her because she meant nothing to him any longer. That would be easy enough to deal with. Well, once she got over the biting pain in her gut, that was. She could just be herself and that would be that.

"Dinner," she announced a second or two before the bells sounded. "We should hurry or we're going to be stuck at a table with Fabian again. I've heard he's had one hell... of... right." She swallowed as she realized that Cara was mostly likely the new recruit that had been working with Fabian. All those stories took on a new dimension to her as she realized who they had been about.

She stood, wishing again that someone had clued her in so that she felt like she could converse with confidence without sticking her foot in her mouth. "Shall we?"

For a moment, when she started breathing funny, Caradoc wished he could take back the words, but then she was acting normal again and he relaxed again. When she mentioned Fabian, his lips spread into a wide grin. “Yes. He does have one hell of a recruit,” he said with pride as he stood and bowed her towards the door. He took great pleasure in torturing Fabian Prewett the way the man had tortured him when they were boys. With anybody else, that might not have worked given their working environment, but Caradoc knew the boundaries and he knew Fabian wouldn’t lose trust even if Caradoc was testing every nerve the older man had. The game was especially fun when they weren’t working and Fab was trying to chat up some pretty little hussie.

As they reached the entry way, Caradoc stopped, blocking Cam’s path. “Go on, Q. We’ll be right behind you.” She hesitated and gave him a funny look. “Think of sitting with Fabian _and_ his hellish new recruit. What a dinner that would be, yeah?” When she finally retreated down the stairs, Caradoc turned and met Cam’s not so innocent face. “What the hell, mate? You didn’t think it important to include that in your letters? Or is this new and she has just joined this merry band of do-gooders, as well?”

"Not new," Cam replied, wishing he'd thought about this a little more thoroughly when Gideon had first mentioned that Cara was joining. At the time, he'd thought that he'd surprise her with the news but he'd never found the right moment. After time went by, he also realized that he'd never talked about Quinn in his letters to Cara so it would be, he thought, only fair if they both discovered this auspicious news at the same time. Of course, he'd thought that one or both of them would have found this news much more exciting. Now he felt like a cad as he realized that he hadn't really taken the time to think this out at all.

"You asked if she was safe." He decided to try to rectify this with at least one of them. Since it was unlikely that Quinn would forgive him, he might as well try to mend the bridge with Cara. "I never thought to mention that she was staying here. At first, she was here because Loah was here and then, after awhile, she was part of the team. It was something that happened seamlessly and I never thought to... no, I take that back. She was happy and doing well and I figured you weren't worried about her because you never brought her up again so I let it slide."

Cara considered this. It wasn't as if Cam should have been obligated to keep Cara posted on Quinn's wherabouts, and it wasn't as if Cara had expressed his _extreme_ displeasure with Quinn's abrupt departure. Though, he would have thought that should have been obvious. With a heavy sigh, he decided against arguing that he had been worried about her. Or rather, concerned. Yes, that was a better description of what his feelings of the situation was.

"I suppose you're right," he said, giving his friend a small smile before turning and heading down to the dining room.

Cam slid into the chair that Quinn was saving for him but from the rigidity of her posture, he realized that it was only because everyone expected him to sit next to the girl that it was still vacant. Knowing Quinn the way he did, he wondered if she hadn't tried to convince someone... anyone... to sit with her before he entered into the room in Cara's wake. True to form, she was as far away from Fabian as she could get but that was all as it should have been, as well. Fabian was still a little scared of Quinn. No,that wasn't completely true. He was a little scared of how protective Cam could be when it came to Quinn.

This was getting out of control, Cam realized. He and Quinn weren't joined at the hip, nor were they dating or anything remotely like that. He didn't feel that way about Quinn O'Mara and he knew that she didn't feel that way about him. But did anyone else know that? Things were going to have to change or their lives were going to become too intertwined and that could only end badly.

"Pass the beans, Q?"

The girl turned stiffly to him with the bowl. "I would appreciate it if you didn't call me that," she replied under her breath.

"What? Q?"

She nodded, her chin jutting out just a bit as she set the bowl back safely on the table. He'd thought for a moment that she might throw the whole thing at him but that would have caused a scene and Quinn never did that in a group of this size. "Just don't call me that. Thank you."

He took a bite of the noodle dish he'd mindlessly put on his plate, only belatedly realizing that there were mushrooms in it and he normally would have noticed that because Adi always put dishes with mushrooms in them into the darker coloured serving dishes so he'd stay clear of them. It would have been rude to spit it out even if it was going to make it hard for him to breath in a few minutes. This conversation wasn't going to last much longer, he decided. Quinn hadn't put anything on her plate and wasn't joining in with any of the other conversations. "What would you like me to call you? Noreen?"

The dreaded middle name. Quinn didn't even know that Cam knew it but then there were things about her in a folder in Gideon's locked office that no one else in the entire world was supposed to know so why not her middle name? She glared over at him, ready to give him a piece of her mind about both the situation with Cara and his use of the name she'd been saddled with because of her unfortunate association with her mother's mother, when his face flushed the unnatural shade of gray that could only mean that he'd eaten something he shouldn't have. Sure enough, when she looked down at his plate, she saw the stroganoff that she hadn't thought to move to the other side of the table.

"You great git," she hissed, her fist seeming so tiny as it hit his arm. "I'm not carrying you to Loah's office so you better get going while you still can." When he didn't move fast enough for her, she began pushing at him until he got to his feet. As she pushed him through the door, she looked up to find Loah in the crowd only to catch Cara's gaze instead. She grinned brightly before he frowned at her and she remembered that they weren't friends anymore. Ducking her head down in shame, she followed Cam out of the room.

"Cam, promise me one thing," she whispered fifteen minutes later when Cam's colour had returned to normal and his breathing was regular. Loah had just left but had told his brother that he needed to stick around the sick room for another ten minutes to make sure that the spell had worked correctly. Quinn wasn't going to let him wait it out alone.

"Yeah?"

"Promise me that we won't have to spend Christmas... here."

He paused as if he might question her but let out a sigh as he nodded. "I promise. And I am sorry that I didn't say anything to you. I didn't think it would be like this. Not between the two of you."

"Yeah, well, things change." She leaned her head back against the wall. too tired to be having this conversation. "I shouldn't have run like I did. It wasn't like I could just wander back after I was healed, though. 'Hey, did you miss me?' just wouldn't have sounded right. I thought about trying to explain the situation but I never _really_ thought I'd see him again. No one is that lucky. Guess I was wrong. Or maybe I wasn't. This sure doesn't feel lucky."

*****

It had started as a joke. Anna Elise had commented one day that it was almost the time that Quinn should have left school if she'd stuck it out. "Just think, you could have gone out in the world and made something of yourself but instead," she clapped a thick hand on Quinn's shoulder, "you stayed with this lot."

Quinn had laughed along with the rest, silently hoping that this would be the last time it was brought up. She'd made Cam promise that the real story of her time at Hogwarts would never be shared with The Group. As much as she trusted them in dangerous situations, she didn't always like everyone in the group. Besides, her private business was hers alone. Now those stories she'd made up were coming back to haunt her as plans spiraled out of her hands. On the day before what should have been her last day at school, she found herself being bundled into a dress and deposited on a stool at the Yellow Daisy, a pub in Stoke-On-Trent that was guaranteed to be quiet.

"Am I supposed to appreciate this?" she asked Foster, the man who'd taken the seat next to her so that she couldn't run while the rest of the group set up the party decorations (a sign with glittering letters that spelled out CONGRATULATIONS QUINN in a variety of different colours every few seconds and a handful of flowers in a hastily cleaned glass) and the food (one of Adi's delicious chocolate cakes and assorted finger foods that had all been charmed to be the colours of the Slytherin house - as if that mattered to Quinn at all) in the quiet room.

He smiled at her as if she was a silly girl who was only putting on a front of resistance to a party in her honour. "Just sit back and relax, Quinn. All you have to do tonight is look pretty and drink everything set in front of you. It's a tradition."

"A tradition? I don't think so. None of the rest of you had a party after you left school. I'm sure I would have heard those stories."

"Okay, so it's not a tradition. Just let them do this for you. These people are your friends and they don't get to show you how much they like you nearly enough."

Caradoc didn't normally care where they got their pints, as long as it was full of fit birds and good ale; however, he had put up more than a bit of resistance to drinking at a place called 'The Yellow Daisy'. It just didn't seem like somewhere a bloke should be drinking, but West had insisted that it had the best drinks in all of Staffordshire. When Cara had challenged such a broad statement, West had humbly admitted that there was a girl that worked here that he was trying to chat up. With a laugh, Caradoc had agreed to join the third member of his team. Fabian, however, had begged off for dinner plans he had with the bird he'd met in Bristol last week.

As they moved past the knot of people in the entrance to the pub, Caradoc caught sight of many familiar faces. Something in his stomach tightened. When a familiar voice called out to West, Caradoc turned and saw Anna Elise rising above the crowd and waving at the two newcomers in an excited manner. His partner turned to him with an apologetic look. "I really did want to come here to chat up a girl, but I didn't think you'd come if you knew it was a party with the others."

Caradoc raised a brow, wondering if Fabian had known there was a party to be avoided and just not told him. No matter now. He'd been spotted and Anna Elise was not going to let him just wander off without even saying hello first. He returned the woman's wave and smiled tightly at West. "And what reason is there this weekend to have a party?" he asked, but West was already bounding off (in a very un-manly like manner, Cara thought) towards the back corner where a curvy brunette was tying on an apron. "Great git," Cara mumbled as he made his way to the bar.

"I didn't think you were going to make it," Anna Elise told him as he reached her.

"Anna Elise," he greeted, calling to the barmen to bring him a pint. "I didn't know there was a party to make," he told her. Though he wouldn't have made it if he'd known. He was just leaning in to give the woman a kiss when he saw Quinn sitting a few stools down. In a dress. His lips curved slightly at the sight. He had never seen Quinn O'Mara in anything so... girly. It was shock enough to see the girl who had been too busy to have drinks for the last eight months, but to see her in something so un-Quinn like, it was enough to make him smile.

"Caradoc?"

He pulled his attention back to the girl at his side and realized she had just been speaking to him. "Yes, sure," he said, not really sure what he had just agreed to. Caradoc leaned in and kissed her before excusing himself and taking his pint from the bartend. At least he would finally be able to have a pint with the girl. He moved around the group gathering by the bar and scooted into the seat next to Quinn. "It's not your birthday, O'Mara. So why do you look like something out of Madame Puddifoots?"

For a moment, Quinn almost forgot that she had been doing her best to stay away from Cara. While she thought she could handle him being in this new life she thought of as her new start, she really couldn't. She was reminded, over and over, that she was the youngest person employed by The Group and staying professional was important to her. The last thing she wanted was for any of them to think of her as a silly teenager. Cara turned her into a silly teenager when she tried to spend time with him. Either a silly teenager or a silent drone. Neither of which was fun or productive.

 _It takes time_ , Cam kept reminding her but she didn't have time. She just needed these emotions she'd kept trying to stifle to go away overnight. Then she'd be able to treat him like everyone else did. The first two drinks she'd already downed tonight seemed to help and she found that she could look up at him without trying to find a spot somewhere over his shoulder to stare at.

"Do you like it?" Quinn had to struggle not to pull at the short hem in an attempt to get it closer to her knees but she couldn't help her smile at the compliment that he almost gave her. "They made me wear it. All I know is that my legs are cold and I'm afraid to eat or drink anything in case I spill something down the front of it. Foster promised that I could get through the whole night with just clear liquids. I thought he might mean water but I don't think I've had any of that."

Caradoc smiled wider as she began to fidget with the fabric. "Stop fussing with it Quinn or you'll end up pulling it apart." He shook his head and took a drink. "And no, I do not like it at all. It's too frilly to be much good, but you make it look better. I'm not sure many women could pull such a terrible thing off, but you do." He reached out and took the nearly empty glass that she started twirling the moment she stopped worrying at her dress. After a quick sniff of its contents, Caradoc returned the glass to her with a frown. "He has you drinking Vodka? Do you often drink hard liquor, Quinn?" He didn't know, but from the slightly glossy look in her eyes, he didn't think she did.

"Nope. Was always told I was too young. I swear, these people think I'm five years old sometimes. You'll notice that Cam isn't here tonight which is part of the reason I think they decided to put this together so suddenly. They think that he thinks that I'm too young." She finished off the liquid in the glass, happy that it wasn't making her cough any longer, and held the glass up for the man working behind the bar. "They think that I think that I should do what Cam says all the time. Little do they know that I get to think what I want to think."

She nodded emphatically, the motion pushing her off her center a little but she was able to right herself without any problem. That meant she wasn't drunk yet. Good. There was still a lot of night left in this party and maybe she was hoping that she could see what getting drunk was all about. Everyone needed a good story to tell about their first time.

Caradoc looked around at her words and for the first time since he'd arrived, noticed that Cam was indeed missing. That was odd, he thought. When he turned back to her, his frown deepened. "They're just looking out for you," he said a bit distractedly as the bartend refilled her glass and then set a fresh pint in front of Caradoc. He nodded his thanks and then finished off the first glass so that man could take it away with him. He wanted to ask her how many she'd had, and more than that, to take away the glass and have the bartender bring her something fizzy and free of alcohol, but she was right. She was old enough to decide if she wanted to drink or not. Of course, he might just have a word with Foster. It wasn't a good idea to be giving people vodka straight up when they weren't used to drinking the stronger liquors.

Instead, he fought those instincts and took a slow drink from his own ale. "And what exactly are we celebrating, then?" he asked, hoping he appeared casual.

"Tomorrow would have been my last day at Hogwarts if I had been able to stick it out." The shame had her taking a big drink from her glass to cover over the knot in her stomach. Everyone else here had been able to get through school. She was the only one she knew who had ever been run out of the castle by a band of bullies. It still rankled that she'd never been strong enough to finally defeat them. They had taken away a whole group of friends from her, friends that she had counted on to be there for her when she needed them. No matter what happened, they'd never failed her. She, however, had failed them.

She had failed Cara. She had failed Cam. She had failed them all.

With a smile to cover over her thoughts and a shrug to cover the tremor in the hand that was holding her drink, she added, "But don't feel you need to get me a present or anything. It's only an excuse for everyone to come to the pub. I think Anna Elise had a little too much fun putting me in this dress and I assume there will be wild stories floating around the breakfast tables tomorrow that will rival any that happened at the last party they had. There was a goat at that one."

For a moment, Caradoc's stomach had tightened. His jaw clenched and his eyes darkened as she explained the gathering's justification. When she raised her glass, he too raised his, draining the contents easily before setting the glass back down on the hard wooden bar top. He swallowed thickly and then twirled the empty glass in his hands. At the mention of a goat, Caradoc seized on the opportunity to change the topic. The events of his Seventh Year were behind him, and there was no reason to alienate Quinn any further than he quite obviously had the last time he had seen her.

"What in the hell did they do with a goat?" he asked, cocking one brow up in question.

"No one will tell me. Just that there was a goat. That seems to be the extent of the story and then everyone just laughs like whatever happened with the goat was funny." The rest of the third drink flowed down her throat as she found herself distracted by how easily she and Cara were conversing. "Why are you being so nice to me, Cara? There are other girls you could talk to in this room. Other blokes. You don't have to stay here if you'd rather be somewhere else."

Caradoc was just shaking his head at the thought of what could possibly be so funny about a goat when she caught him off guard with her question. His brows knit together. "I don't understand," he said. "Why wouldn't I be nice to you?" Of course, he hadn't exactly been a bundle of pleasant the last time he had seen her, but then again, the only reason he had not seen her since that night was because she had always had some business that conveniently kept her away from the outings he'd had with Cam. "I mean, we're friends, right?"

"Are we?" Quinn hadn't meant to bring any of this up and, seeing his reaction now, she wished she hadn't. Cara wasn't having any problems with her being here. There had been that moment during their first meeting in the Beach House's library when she thought he might be angry with her but nothing he'd done or said since then had indicated that he was. Neither had he tried to seek her out although Cam had mentioned on several occasions that she was invited along to their pub outings. There were several times that she'd gotten ready to go only to turn him down at the last minute.

"I know that we were at one time," she conceded, her tongue feeling a little thick in her fuzzy mouth. Maybe she should stop drinking while she was ahead. At this point, she had an idea that she was already saying things that she would never have said if she hadn't had those drinks before he walked in. "But this doesn't feel much like friendship. Not that I have a lot of experience in this sort of thing, mind you. You and the Knights were the closest thing to friendship that I've ever gotten before. But I've never shown you what Loah did." Quinn held up her arm, the light skin of the inside of her wrist still showing the faint line of scar. "Look."

He nodded, watching her closely as she spoke. Her cheeks were growing rosy and her eyes were becoming unfocused. He was just deciding to ask the barkeep to bring her something less vodka-y and damn her desires to prove herself old enough when the proprietor appeared. Before Caradoc could stop the man, he was pouring Quinn another drink. Caradoc narrowed his eyes and the man gave him a toothy grin before scurrying off, leaving Quinn's glass only half full.

Instead of reaching around the bar himself and finding something for Quinn to drink that wouldn't continue her on this road to pissed she was on, Caradoc forced himself to focus on the woman herself. She didn't need him protecting her anymore. He wasn't sure how to respond to her, though, and was once again glad she had provided him with a distraction. Reaching down, he took her wrist in his hands and ran his forefinger over the faint trace of a scar it now held. It had been healed so many times from the breaks it had sustained that he wasn't sure how she still managed to use it. A flash of irritation went through him but it passed as he remembered that Loah was Cam's brother and therefore, unlikely to do anything to harm Quinn.

"What is that from?" he asked, pulling back when she shivered. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"You can't hurt me there anymore. No one can. Loah opened up my arm and put all these pins and metal bars in there so that it will never break again. There are some things that magic just wasn't meant to fix, he said. And that moron of a Healer - his words, not mine - wasn't even trying to get it right. He also did something to a few of my ribs but," she twisted around, trying to figure out how to show him the scar without pulling up the whole dress, her alcohol soaked brain intent on at least trying to prove that she'd been healed, "but I guess I can't show you that. I was good as new when he finished. Good. As. New."

Despite himself, and the curiosity he felt over what she was explaining, Caradoc smiled. She definitely looked pleased with herself and her words sounded chipper. He always liked it best when Quinn was happy. She had a fire about her that amused him. Especially when she was giving some other bloke the what-for.

"I'm happy for you, Quinn. Really, I am." She reached for her glass and his smile slid slightly. It would be too obvious if he just took the glass from her. Especially as she seemed content to sip the drink now instead of downing it like it was a simple pint. He looked up and tried to get the barman's attention, but the man was flirting with Anna Elise down at the far end of the bar. Instead, he turned and caught the attention of the girl that West had come here to chat up. When she arrived, he ordered two fish and chips and then turned back to Quinn.

"I'd be interested to know what he meant about Poppy not getting it right. I thought that your bones just were more sensitive because they'd been fractured so many times. Does Loah think she's not qualified?"

"Well, he mostly blamed it on me. I didn't go see her every time I felt them in the wrong place. It was hard to give in, though. I would have had to explain where I'd been and he would have heard me and they would have gone specifically for those areas that hurt the worst. They always did because he always knew. Amazing how you blokes would always ask me how I was feeling when he was there and I'd try to put you off and you'd get that look in your eyes that told me if I didn't tell you, you'd find a way to get the information."

She was rambling but it was nice to say all of this without having to worry about what he might think because she didn't care what he thought. For the first time since she'd met him, she didn't care. Alcohol was lovely, that way. But this was definitely going to be her last drink. Definitely.

"So I decided to quit getting hurt. If I didn't say anything about it, it wouldn't really hurt. That was a load of nonsense. Especially with those ribs. Have you ever tried to breath with cracked ribs? Oh, yes. I suppose you have. That one time you got hit with the bludger. But you didn't go to the Infirmary. I remember you just grit your teeth and walked stiffly for awhile. Said that a man just had to take it sometimes if he was going to play hard. So that's what I did." She slammed her glass down on the counter, spilling the rest of the contents out as she began to giggle. Oh, that was a weird sound. "But he always figured it out." She couldn't stop the giggling. "And he was always around. Silly bloke. Silly, silly bloke. But stupid Quinn for not being able to do anything about him. Because he was your friend. He always reminded me that you would pick him over me because he was your friend."

Caradoc frowned as she spoke, trying to understand what she was talking about. Who was _he_ and why was he always around to know what parts of her hurt the most. But as she continued to speak (or babble really, because the speed of her speech could not be considered speaking), Caradoc's blood ran boiling hot. He had been considered a friend. She was afraid of giving him too much information, yet Caradoc had considered him a friend. And hew as always around. There were few people who were always around that Caradoc would have considered a friend.

He reached out and took her glass from her when she spilled the drink over her hands. Bugger. He'd let her get pissed. All because he didn't want her to get upset with him again. That had been a brilliant move. Taking out his wand, he cleaned the bar, and her hands, before turning her gently towards him. She swayed slightly and he tightened his grip on her so that she didn't tumble sideways off the stool. Better still, he would get her to a booth.

"Come on, you," he said in a soft voice, sliding his hand around her waist and pulling her effortlessly from the stool. "A seat with a back will do you some good," he added as he maneuvered them towards a back booth. When he had settled her in, he slid in next to her and focused her face on his again. "Who is 'he', Quinn?"

"Ollie." As soon as she said the name, she clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh no. I wasn't supposed to tell you." Quinn took her hand down only to ball it up into a fist and began to hit him in the chest. It hurt her more than it was hurting him but she was angry that he'd gotten it out of her. "You weren't supposed to know. You can't know."

When that didn't phase him, his eyes already narrowed into slits that didn't bode well for anyone involved in this tangled mess, she tried a different tactic. Putting her hands on either side of his head, she pulled his face down to hers. "He'll put you in Azkaban. He knows people. He said he would. You can't go to Azkaban, Cara. I'm not going to send you there because I was weak."

 _Ollie_. The name reverberated in his mind as all coherent thought left him. It didn't make sense. Ollie had slept in the bed next to him for seven years. Surely he would have known if the man was a traitor. Wouldn't he? They had spent hours together and had even sat on Cara's bed and shared treacle treats Ollie's aunt had sent him over holidays when they were thirteen. Ollie had been _with_ them, not against them. What could he have possibly gained from turning against their ideals?

Caradoc was so caught up in the ramblings of his mind that he couldn't even appreciate the way Quinn was beating her fist against him as he normally would have. By the time his brain caught up and told his arms to move and grab her hands, she had stopped hitting him and was holding his face.

"Azkaban?" he repeated, her cold hands finally pulling him from his internal musings. He focused on her eyes. They were begging him to keep her _secret_. He wouldn't make that promise. No, if this were true, and everything in Quinn's demeanor told him it was, Ollie would know that Cara knew of his misdeeds. He would know when Cara enacted his revenge. "Q, nobody is going to send me to Azkaban." If he hadn't been suddenly filled with an uncontrollable rage, Cara might have snorted at the very thought of anybody, let alone Ollie Jacobson, sending him to prison. But if he gave into that emotion, he might lose the tentative hold he had on his anger as well. It wouldn't do to lose control here, though. Not here with Quinn looking so upset and frightened by what she'd just let slip. He did not need to frighten her more. He would, however, kill Ollie Jacobson. Very slowly and with an inordinate amount of pain. The worm would know every ounce of the misery he had caused Quinn and then some.

Caradoc reached up and took her hands from his face, cradling them in his own hands. "Quinn," he began but his voice trembled with anger and he had to close his eyes and take a deep breath. He was trained to keep his emotions under control. It shouldn't be so hard now. But none of his training or the subsequent jobs had been related to Quinn. None of those jobs had been related to his mate betraying him. After a long moment, he jerked his wrist and gave the wand that was suddenly in his hand a flick, setting up a barrier around their table. A subtle diversion that would keep anybody from hearing their conversation, but not keep them away if they approached.

He began again. "Quinn. When did Ollie start hurting you?" His voice was low, but even. A good sign that he was winning the battle with his temper. Right now he needed to gather the facts, find out what Quinn meant exactly, and who else might have been involved. "I need you to tell me everything, Quinn. Do not leave _anything_ or any _one_ out, do you understand me?" As an afterthought, he added, " Don't be afraid. Nothing is going to hurt me, Q. Not Ollie or these people he knows."

The fear that gripped her insides sobered her up much quicker than any coffee or sleep could. She wasn't a school girl anymore and Cara could take care of himself now. It was silly to think that Ollie would be able to carry out those old threats. Still, she didn't like telling this story.

"It started the end of that first year with the Knights. That was the first time that Ollie was allowed to be alone with me. The first time wasn't bad and he pretended that he didn't know that it was going to happen. It was right after the string of incidents. Do you remember them? As if they were trying to figure out our weakness. I don't know if he was working with them at the time or if it truly was a bad sense of timing. The second time, though, I was sure he'd orchestrated the meeting. That's when they told me that they would hurt you if I told. It was right before the Quidditch game against Slytherin. The one where you fell from your broom. It was a sign to me that they really would hurt you."

The entire two years?! Ollie had been betraying them for the entire length of their reign as her protectors? He took a deep breath, tugging the anger back inside. He needed to remain calm in order to get to the truth. Becoming outraged and demanding justice now would not serve anybody well. There would be time for that, he reminded himself.

Caradoc nodded. He remembered very keenly the only time he had ever actually fallen from a broom. There had been times before where he slipped but had always been able to right himself before he actually fell, even if that had caused him to crash into somebody or go into an unexpected dive. That match, however, he had lost his grip on the handle while passing the Quaffle to Kent. Something that had never happened before and something he had questioned repeatedly. He had felt the sizzle of magic right before he'd fallen and only the charms on the Pitch had kept him from slamming to the ground in a body shattering mess, but there had been no way to prove that it hadn't been accidental. A mistake of his own.

He supposed he could understand her hesitation to tell him, or even the other Knights.  It seemed the best way to keep her quiet and was actually quite ingenious in a maddening sort of way. "Quinn," but there were no words left. She wouldn't have gone to Cam if she had thought those monsters were really capable of hurting her friends. He wished he could have made her see then that they were far more capable than the people that were hurting her. If only they had had the opportunity to prove it. Especially when Cam was still with them. He and Camillo Figge had been nearly unstoppable. Even at 16 and 18 years old.

Finally, he just shook his head. "I'm sorry that Ollie hurt you. I'm sorry that any of those berks hurt you. But mostly I'm sorry that I couldn't make it stop."

"It's not your fault," she whispered, feeling the rage rolling off him. It echoed hers although, until she'd joined in with The Group, it had been something that she hadn't been able to do anything about. All those feelings of helplessness had eaten at her, leaving her raw and wounded because _she_ hadn't been able to do anything about them. But now she was stronger. Now she could handle herself if that ever happened again. It wouldn't because she was never going to put herself in that situation again.

"The first job I ever got to work on was compiling intel on Jarvis Pfafflee and his father. I was there when he was brought down. It went a long way to easing some of the pain at his actions. He was just one in a group, though. I'd like to be able to do the same thing to all of them."

"It might not be my fault, Quinn, but that doesn't mean I don't get to feel bad." He let go of the hands he hadn't realized he was still holding and looked around for a moment. The waitress was still not approaching with their food and he had a feeling, Quinn needed something other than pub grease anyway. When he turned back to her, he reached up and cupped her cheek gently, though his eyes were dark with revenge. "You will not get the opportunity with Ollie, Q. I will see him dead before he is hauled off to prison."

When her tears fell, Caradoc wiped them away with his thumb. He didn't need to tell her what he planned to do to Ollie. She didn't need those images. That was his burden.

"Is there anything else, Quinn? Any of the others?"

"The Knights?" She looked horrified that he would even think such a thing. "No. Just... him. The others were... no, Cara. Never think that of them. Ever."

Caradoc sighed, his anger retreating to a place where he could deal with it when he was alone. "I wouldn't have thought it of Ollie, Q. I'm sorry that I didn't see it," he said again.

"He looked innocent enough. Even... yeah." The alcohol in her blood helped with the memories. Interesting. Not that she was going to go that way but it was nice to know there was something out there that would make them go away.

She leaned closer to Cara. Not exactly snuggling up to him but closer than she ever thought she would allow herself to get again. It was interesting being able to distance herself from the fear of being rejected by him because she wasn't capable or strong. For so long she'd wanted to be just like him, until the day she realized that she _wanted_ him. It had been a sad day when she realized that she was giving all that up. "Cara? Can we be friends again? I miss you."

Cara pulled her to him, his arms strong around her shoulders. He leaned his cheek against her head. "We'll always be friends, Quinn. Always."

With that, he took her hand and pulled her slowly from the booth. "But this night is done with. I'm going to take you home and get you settled so that when Cam finds out, I can say in good conscious that I saw you safely home."

When she was standing, Cara secured her with one arm around her waist while waving a goodnight to Foster, West, and the waitress who at least had the decency to look ashamed for her abysmal serving skills. He dropped some money on the bar as they passed it and then navigated their way outside.

"Where are you staying these days?"

"Third floor. Second door. The Beach House is the only place I can really call home." Saying that suddenly made Quinn very sad. She lived out of ten different closets in ten different rooms spread across Britain and the Continent. In the room she used at the Beach House, she had a shelf of books and one framed picture of sunlight streaming through a forest of trees. It was framed only because she thought it was beautiful, not because she'd taken it or even that she knew where it was.

None of that really made it a home. One day she wanted to have one of those for her own. It would be nice to see what one of those was like. "Not everyone can say they have a library one floor down and the best meals served three times a day."

Well. On one hand, her living at the Beach House made it easier to Apparate them, but on the other hand, it made it trickier to get a very pissed Quinn to her bed without the prying eyes of the others who stayed there. Not to mention Cam and Loah. With any luck, he would manage to avoid the whole Figge family.

"A grand library it is, too," he told her as he slipped his other arm around her. She looked a little off, her eyes not quite focusing on his where as not even five minutes ago, she'd been looking at him with clear eyes. "Please don't be sick on me, Quinn." He smiled down at her but when she swayed in his arms when she tried to roll her eyes, he tightened his hold and grew serious once more. "Right. Home. Hold on, then."

The arrival wasn't his best work, but he'd been concentrating on holding her closer so that she might not feel the effects of the Apparation so deeply. Managing to keep them both upright, Caradoc gave her only a moment to gain her sense of awareness, before he lifted her into his arms and began his trek through the house. The trip up the stairs to her room was easy enough, without even one door opening or head peeping around at them. He made quick work of the door (it was slightly trickier when you were carrying the woman instead of having her wrapped around you like a vine, but he managed to not jostle her in the least), and gently set her down on the bed. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the vial of potion he took when he'd had a particularly rough night of drinking.

"Here. Take this. It tastes like burnt tar but I promise if you don't spit it out you'll thank me tomorrow."

She grimaced as her taste buds got a load of the potion but finished it all as she'd been instructed. Things had been pretty dicey for those few minutes while he'd gotten her home but she'd been able to keep her wits about her and her lunch inside her.

The dim light of her room was comforting as she tried to keep her eyes trained on Cara after giving him back his flask. "Is this what drunk is like? I think I'd prefer not to do this again. This isn't pleasant at all."

Caradoc laughed. "Unfortunately, you bypassed the fun part, Q." He tapped the empty vial she'd given him, transfiguring it into a tumbler which he filled with water and then gave to her. "That too. The potion will help, but so will replenishing your fluids." When she'd finished the glass of water, he refilled it and set it on the small nightstand next to her bed.

"You'll sleep well, though," he told her, bending down and slipping her shoes from her feet. "Now, into the bed with you. I'll swing by tomorrow to see how you're feeling."

Quinn groaned as she lay down. The movement made her head feel as if it was going to fall off her shoulders. "It may be too late. I think I'll be dead. If you find my pale and still body in this bed tomorrow, will you be sure to make Foster pay for his deeds? Ale would have been a better choice. I should never have listened to that great git."

Caradoc chuckled, covering her with the blankets on her bed. "You'll be fine after some sleep." He placed his hand on her forehead, pressing firmly before moving away and lowering the lights. "Good night, Quinn," he whispered as he closed her door.

Of course, he would be sure to make Foster pay the next time they had a chance to spar together. Tonight, however, it would not be wise to spar with any human. No, tonight he would take his frustrations out on the bag of sand Loah had given him to hang in his flat.

***

It had been several weeks since Kent had heard from Gavin. Since the hospital, in fact. He’d even learned of the other man’s retirement from the rags like the rest of the population. All of Kent’s owls had gone undelivered, the owls coming back after a day with the missives still attached. It even appeared Gavin’s floo had been disconnected from the network. And all of the times Kent showed up unannounced to Gavin’s properties, he’d been denied access. Not from a physical presence, simply because the wards never came down. The only reason he hadn’t stormed the castle, so to speak, is because there had been nightly sightings at random pubs throughout England.

Kent was just sitting down to write a plea for help to Caradoc and Rhys when a head popped up in his Floo.

“Mister Pearsons? Oh- there you are. He’s here now.”

“Thank you Dris,” Kent said, folding up the parchment he’d begun his letter on. “I’ll be there shortly.”

“Mister Pearsons? Don’t forget—”

“Yes. I remember our arrangement, Driscoll. Please ensure he stays put until I arrive.”

The toothy barmen nodded as Kent stood and the fire flickered back to normal. It had cost him a pretty sickle but he’d managed to get each of the owners of the pubs Gavin had been sighted at to agree to contact Kent the next time Gav showed up. But each of them had wanted more than just the money for the job. In Driscoll’s case, the man wanted top level seats for all of the games the Harpie’s played. A shot to the ego, but worth it if it meant Kent got in touch with his long time friend. Thankfully, he was in pretty good with the all-witch team’s Beaters and they’d agreed to do what they could to help him out. The finer details were still in the works, but he had no doubt the two women would come through for him.

After slipping the note to Caradoc into the drawer in his desk, Kent grabbed a light jacket and locked up his brownstone. When the wards were set, he Apparated to the top of the seedy lane where The Happy Duck was situated. He pulled his jacket’s collar closer and walked briskly down the road until he came to the dark corner where the pub was nestled between an old run-down abandoned building and the brick wall that the small town's cemetery sat behind. With a sigh, Kent steeled himself for what he might find inside the wretched establishment.

He blinked several times when he stepped inside the pub. The air was thick with smoke and ale and smells Kent had no desire to identify. At the far end of the bar, separated by at least three bar stools from the other patrons was Gavin. Even from this distance, Kent could see the strain the last several weeks had put on his friend. Gavin's hair was limp, his forehead creased, and his eyes drawn and weary. With a frown, Kent moved across the place and slid into the seat next to Gavin.

"Have you been drinking yourself into a stupor then?"

"Actually, I'm trying to drink myself to an early death, thank you very much." Gavin lifted his glass, looking surprised to see that it was nearly empty once again. It had just been filled and he didn't really remember drinking any of it. Maybe there was a crack in the bottom of the glass. As he peered at the dirty glass, he couldn't see any imperfections but that didn't mean they weren't there. He'd already proven that he couldn't see large things. No wonder small things were getting past him.

He turned his attention to Kent. Sooner or later, he knew his old friend would find him. That was just Kent's way. "So, you've come to join me. Delightful. We'll make a night of it and you can pour the drinks down my throat when I pass out because I can't seem to get anyone else to do it for me. No one will pull a knife on me either. Why do you think I pick these gorgeous places? Not for the ambiance. Nor for the quality of ale. It's all piss, I'm afraid. Wouldn't want to waste my money on the good stuff, after all. Wouldn't want to do that."

Kent groaned. The man was in worse shape that Kent had thought. Well, he supposed that was exactly true, but to hear the words come out of Gavin's mouth still did a number on Kent's stomach. The papers had said it was a career-ending injury, but it just hadn't seemed possible. The Healers had been so confident when Kent had seen Gavin in the hospital. He couldn't think of a reason why they would have misled Gavin and there was nothing in any of the papers, and Kent had spoken with the reporters himself, that related anything else of consequence.

"Gav," he began, but stopped. He didn't know what to say. If it were his knee that had been shattered, his career that had ended... how would he have reacted? Perhaps he would have tried to drink himself into the ground as well. "Have you already seen a specialist?"

"Four, in fact. Even went to America. They all said the same thing." He took a long drink, finishing off the liquid in the glass. Before he put the glass down, the bar keep was filling it up again. He'd paid the man good money to see that he never had an empty glass. "The damage was more extensive than they thought at first glance. There was too much damage to the tendons. They can't be repaired. Funny that they were so worried about the bones when it was all those little things inside that needed to be fixed up."

Gavin smiled wryly as he watched all the different emotions fly across Kent's face. "The nice thing about all the booze is that it doesn't hurt. Not at all. When I wake up in the morning, I want to saw my leg off with a butter knife but right now there's nothing but good vibes coming from my knee."

Kent felt a bit sick, but he tried to keep it together for his friend who was quite obviously doing the exact opposite. He had half a mind to discreetly insist that Driscoll start plying Gavin with ginger beer but instead, signaled the man to bring him a glass of his own. "Is there a lot of pain, then? Can they not give you something for that?" Though he wondered if the pain was truly in his knee or if it was purely emotional at this point.

"Potions. Lots of potions. One puts me to sleep, which I guess does help with the pain but I wasn't doing anything but sleeping which puts a damper on having a life. Of course, this isn't much of a life either. Some of the others either didn't work or they made me sick. Nothing really worked. Not like this." He drank down this glass in record time. Talking always made him thirsty. If Kent kept this up, he was going to find himself on the floor much earlier tonight. Not a bad thing. Not bad at all. If he'd known that this was a side effect, he would have gotten someone to talk to days ago.

"What about you, buddy?" Gavin lifted his glass in salute. "Is it helping you out? Heard you had quite a buffet the other night. Are you feeling any pain at the moment? I'm telling you, it's a wonder drug."

"It wasn't anything. I'm fine," Kent mumbled, lifting his glass to his lips and trying to formulate a plan. He couldn't have Gavin spiraling out of control on him, but who was he to deny the man his escape from the pain. It was crushing to see his friend like this. Of course, Gavin had always been the passionate one. When he set his mind to something, he went all out and gave his entire heart to it. Be it girls, Quidditch, or pulling Caradoc through Arithmancy. What Kent needed to do was to find a logical path to set Gavin on. One that the man could devote his whole being to.

Unfortunately, what he should do and what came out of his mouth were directly at odds with each other. "You're better than this, Gav."

"Nope." Gavin began to shake his head but found that he began listing to the side as his center of balance was thrown off because of the motion. "I'm not better than anything at the moment. Figure I have enough money to keep doing this for the next twenty years. By then, I should be an expert. This is my life. Who I am. Deal with it, Kent. I'm washed up. A has-been. Might as well add _drunk_ to the list. I've come to terms with it. So should you."

"I'll come to terms with no such thing, you great sodding shite." He hadn't meant to sound so harsh, or so sanctimonious, but hearing the self-pity in his friend's voice, seeing the fight gone from his eyes was enough to brass him right off. He grabbed the glass as Driscoll came to fill it and then hissed a word of warning at the barman when he went to put a fresh one in front of Gavin. "I'll have you blacklisted from all of the games, Dris," he growled when the greasy man's hands did not still. "Try me."

When the barkeep shuffled off, Kent turned his attention back to Gavin. The other man looked a bit green around the gills and Kent suddenly wondered if he were mixing the alcohol with the pain potions. That'd be bloody fantastic. "You seriously think crawling from disgusting pub to disgusting pub is going to make everything better? Staggering through your existence in a drunken stupor because you can't play a game any longer? You think this would make your mum and dad proud, Gavin? You think they'd like to see their boy drowning in self-pity? Is Quidditch really all there was? Without it, you're what? Nothing? That's a load and you damn well know it."

With nothing to do with his hands, Gavin found his limbs getting shaky. His lips felt too big for his face and his teeth were too small. To sit on this particular stool, he had to sit over to the side so that he was half-standing, his bad leg propping him up. This normally didn't bother him much but now he could feel every inch of the cursed limb. The air was too thick with smells, making his stomach turn over and over like he was in the midst of a high dive. Drinking was only fun when he had a drink. Funny how this turned into a horrible scenario now that Kent was along for the ride.

"Fine. Then you give it up. Tell them your done. Right now. Today. Where does that leave you? Oh, wait. It doesn't matter, does it? You have something to fall back on, don't you? A life outside the game. Not all of us are so special, Kent." This was the moment that he would have stomped off if he could have. His exit would be too slow and too painful to be of much use to him at the moment.

For the span of a heartbeat, Kent stared at Gavin, completely dumbstruck. “You didn’t honestly think you were going to play this game forever, did you Gav? I mean. You had to have thought about what you wanted to do when you were done with it.” What was it the man had said he wanted to do after they retired? Oh, yes – “What about that island fantasy you always wanted. A little spot of paradise carved out just for you. Why would you piss away your money on this watered down crap from a tap when you could spend that money on making the dream come true? Find yourself a little senorita to watch the sunsets with, maybe build up your own tavern right on the beach.”

He reached out and grasped Gavin’s shoulder. “Hell mate, I’ll take a leave of absence to help you find the perfect place if that’s what it takes.”

"That dream only works if I have a name to fall back on. A career that people could respect. Retiring because of age is different than being forced to leave the game because of injury." He felt sick to his stomach and not because of the booze. While he lay in the bed at St. Mungo's in those early days, he'd gone over the idea once again. If he hadn't seen the pity in the eyes of every person who came by his bed, his life might have taken a different direction. No, he wasn't going to spend the rest of his life trying to convince people he was a valid teacher while seeing that same pity in their eyes.

He took a deep breath, trying to control the reactions of a body that wasn't listening to his brain. "Thanks, mate. Thanks for caring. You can leave now."

Kent rolled his eyes, exasperated with this self-indulgence of Gavin's. Sure, Gavin had always fallen into funks but he'd never let them get to the point where he was throwing everything away. Except maybe with Phill, but even then, the man had managed to pull himself from the pits without much encouragement from the others. Somehow, Kent didn't think his mate was going to be pulling himself out of this one.

"I'll leave," he said, sliding from the bar. But he went around to Gavin's other side, grabbed the man's arm and then, without warning, tugged the man from the stool. He heaved until he was able to get Gavin over his shoulder. "With you." His voice was rough with the strain of having the other man over his shoulders, but he stood straight as he made his way from the pub. "And you try and hex me, Gavin _____, and see where that lands your pathetic arse."

The moment they crossed the threshold, Kent Apparated to the cemetery where his own mother had been buried the month before Kent had been signed to the Falcons. He dropped his friend on the cold ground in front of her headstone. "Tell her your sob story, Gavin. Go on. Tell her why you can't retire to some beach because some dirty Beater took a cheap shot and ended your career. Make sure you include why you can't help out the kids who look up to you but don't have the benefits of a money to get them where they need to be so they might have a shot at the big leagues. I'm sure she'll appreciate what a great role model you're being to those who are less fortunate. If things aren't rosy perfect, just lay down and give up. Oh, and be sure to whine about how these past six years have not been enough to build up your name as one of the finest Keeper's the league has ever seen. Go on."

The words evaporated as he heard Kent throwing them back at him. Here, in the one place where the excuses didn't sound like anything but the complaining of a whiner, he couldn't think of anything to say that he or Kent had already said. He put his head in his hands, wishing he could stop the pain so he could think clearly again.

"I don't know what to do next. I can't think of what to do. They want me to go in for another couple of operations but I don't want to do that. I'm tired of being in pain. I just want to wake up and have this all be a bad dream." He lifted his head and looked over at the headstone. With shaking fingers, he traced the name carved in the stone. "I just want this to be over."

Kent deflated. He had never heard Gavin sound so... small. Suddenly, Kent felt like a right prat for yelling at his friend in his greatest time of need. Of course, something needed to be done to snap Gavin's focus of self-destruction.

He sank down onto his haunches behind Gavin and put a hand on the other man's shoulder, squeezing firmly. "The only thing you can do, Gav, is take everything one step at a time. So first things first. You'll come and stay with me for a little bit. My place is smaller, but still large enough so you'll have some privacy if you want it. I need the company anyway. Godric knows that bloody elf is beside himself with only me to look after. He drives me insane sometimes. You'll sober up and then in a few days or a week, whenever you're feeling up to it, we'll go together to see what the doctors have to say about these other operations. Perhaps they'll lessen the pain for you."

"Maybe," he muttered, his fingernail worrying at a bit of dirt on the stone. There was no way he was going to go back to the Healers but he wasn't going to tell Kent that. Not just yet. "Just... don't tell Cara. About where you found me. And what I've been doing. I'd rather he didn't know. It's bad enough that I can't fly anymore. I don't want him to know that I gave up."

Kent thought that an odd request, as he was sure Caradoc would not think less of Gavin for having a weak moment. Instead of pointing this logic out, he simply nodded. "Whatever you need, mate. Whatever you need."


	2. At the Hungry Badger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cam sees Rebecca. Rebecca smiles at Cam. Susanne is forced to flirt with a lesser man. Things get dicey and a kiss is shared.

It took more effort than usual to get in the door of the Hungry Badger but Cam needed a drink and this was the only pub in town that he would even think of sitting foot in. While it wasn't exactly clean, it wasn't the fire trap that the Axe & Hose was nor did it have the glitz of McOlsen's, a stupid name for a pub, not that he'd even call it that. It was more like a tea house that served ale. Of course, their ale was cold if the rumour was true. Waste of good hops, in his opinion.

He recognised the man hulking beside the entrance and stopped to chat for a few minutes as he tried to keep the light drizzle from getting down into his collar. Spring came late to these parts and the May weather was bitter. He could only hope that it cleared up for the Quidditch match tomorrow. He'd go either way but it would be nice not to have to be wrapped up like a trussed turkey for the whole thing.

"So who're you shadowing tonight?" Cam asked Labon, a good enough bloke with a keen eye for detail. "Cause you look like you're working. Or are you just standing here, checking out faces because you're looking for a girl who thinks you look tough when you frown?"

Labon narrowed his eyes at the larger man as if he was going to refuse to say anything but seemed to relent. "You know I'm not supposed to tell you but I'll give you a hint. You going to the game tomorrow?"

"Of course. You know I don't miss a game when I'm near one."

Labon's smile made Cam feel like his collar was too tight to get a proper breath, as if Labon had found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and was just daring anyone else to find it now. "Then you're going to enjoy yourself tonight."

Cam poked his head through the door way and looked around. When he pulled back, he had a wry grin on his face. "The whole team's here?"

"Most of them. The joint's jumping right now but it'll be dead by midnight. Coach's orders. Have your fun now."

The last thing he wanted to do was interact with a Quidditch team the night before a match but they were sticking to the lighted areas, leaving him one of the tables in the corner that the shadows never completely left, even with a lit lamp burning on the wall above. He ordered a pint and proceeded to size up the people that filled the small room. If he hadn't known the team was in town for the match tomorrow, he might never have noticed the individual faces and known them for who they were. They were frighteningly normal, the way that famous people and sociopaths were when they were in public.

His eyes found the inevitable knot of females crushed together, their bodies swaying to the music that was overly loud for a room this size. Like any of the males in the room, he could appreciate this activity but he was glad that he wasn't one of the unfortunate men that had been roped into making an appearance, their own bodies stiff and unyielding as they tried to do justice to their partners. There weren't enough males to go around and several of the women were dancing together in a knot, their eyes thrown back and their hair floating around their sweat-streaked faces.

A tall blonde leaned over to talk to a dark-haired girl he hadn't been able to see well. She indicated the other side of the room and must have got an acceptable answer because she left the floor. The group quickly disintegrated and the dark-hair girl made her way to the table where her drink was waiting.

Cam found that he was holding his breath as he watched her every move. The dark hair was actually a mysterious mix of brown and red that found every light in the room. His hand lifted up from the table and he had to fight the impulse to walk over and see if it was truly as soft as it looked. As beautiful as the face was, he'd seen it in enough magazines to know that this was not a woman fit for the likes of him.

 _Finish your drink and leave_ , his inner voice cautioned him. _Don't start anything. This isn't your sort of girl. She's refined and everyone in the room is watching her right now. Not your type at all._

Rebecca didn't wait until she was seated before downing the lager she'd left on the table. It didn't quench the thirst and she signaled to the barmaid to bring another. When the girl acknowledged her, Rebecca ran a hand through her hair. Her head was starting to feel warm so she reached into her pocket and withdrew a band. She gathered up her hair and secured it in a messy ball near the top of her head. When her drink arrived, she flopped down in the chair and put the cold mug to her cheek, enjoying the chill it sent through her body. Often times, she enjoyed these pre-match outings more than the after. Of course, after-match gatherings were more likely to end up with her pissed which she tried not to let happen in public that often. She had a certain reputation to maintain, after all. Besides, it was more fun to watch the interactions of the locals and her gals when you'd only consumed enough alcohol to put a slight warmth on your cheeks. Drunk people amused her.

As she fanned herself and took long gulps of the cold drink, Rebecca scanned the room. Suze would be occupied for a long while now that she’d found a suitable bloke to let chat her up. Her eyes fell on the only bloke in the room who seemed content on staying as far from her teammates as possible. When she met his gaze, he raised a brow and did not drop his eyes in apology at having been caught staring at her. That in and of itself was interesting. Most men, of any age, stared at her but none of them had the pluck to actually hold her gaze after being caught. They usually coloured and immediately tried to look as if they were watching anything but her. It was amusing to her in a tiresome kind of way. After a moment, the man shook his head and glanced away in what Rebecca would later describe as a completely casual way. There was nothing hurried about his actions.

She continued watching him. For the span of an entire song, his eyes did not return to hers which suited Rebecca just fine. It gave her ample opportunity to study him much as he had been studying her. His features were strong, giving him an aura of intimidation, though that could have been the massive arms the man was not so carefully hiding beneath his shirt. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but she couldn’t place what it was. When the barmaid walked by, Rebecca grabbed the woman’s arm and indicated the isolated man. “Bring me one of whatever he is drinking.”

A moment later, the woman returned with a tankard of ale and Rebecca smiled, sticking an extra Sickle in the young woman’s hand. She gathered the ale and her own drink and made her way to the man’s table. Without invitation, Rebecca sat down and slid the tankard across the table. “Were you planning on asking me to dance or had you made up your mind that I would say no?” she asked casually, lifting her drink to her lips. Her eyes were sparkling with curiosity and a touch of amusement.

"I'd decided that you didn't need to witness that torture," Cam replied, still a little surprised that the woman he'd been watching all evening was now across the table from him. Her eyes fascinated him and he couldn't help but stare at the darker bands of blue around the light irises.

The fact that she was here was playing havoc with his previous decision to leave as soon as he was done with this drink. He couldn't turn down her offering. That would be rude, wouldn't it? He'd never cared if he was rude or not before. This was new for him. "That sort of thing is bound to give you nightmares and you'll need plenty of sleep tonight if you're going to be on top of your game."

The corners of her lips curved up. "You might be surprised at what does and does not give me nightmares," she informed him, liking the way his eyes focused on her own despite the tight fitting blouse she was wearing. She set her glass down and leaned forward on the table. "You obviously know who I am so how about you even the playing field. Or are you content to be a man of mystery all evening?"

"Cam. Camillo Figge." He held out his hand to her as if they were business associates meeting for the first time. Too bad none of his business associates looked like she did. Or maybe it was better this way. He wouldn't get any work done otherwise. "I'd like to say I'm a big fan of your work but I'm still a little disgruntled about how you handed my boy, Kent Pearsons, his arse on a platter last month."

Rebecca laughed, taking Camillo’s proffered hand. He had a firm grip and didn’t seem to be holding back like she might break if he squeezed with a nominal amount of pressure. Once again she noted how different that was from most men, especially the bigger ones, who did not grasp her hand as tightly as she knew they would grasp a man’s hand. She usually made them regret that action when she met them on the Pitch.

When she finally released his hand (after holding it a moment longer than was particularly proper), she asked with a pleased grin, “Did I cost you a Galleon or two?” She still owed Pearsons a round of drinks, though he’d been in no mood to socialize with her after that particular match. Not that she blamed him, of course; she’d been particularly rough on he and his teammates after one of his fellow Chasers had made an ill-advised comment regarding the true talents of the Harpies.

"Something like that." He'd had to buy Quinn the new edition of Gerog's Proper Tea Spells and Charms, the one with the pink and white filigree cover, from the cute witch at the bookstore they liked to spend time at when they were in Edinburgh. As Quinn had planned, the woman had frowned as she wrapped it in the plain brown paper before presenting it to him. That was another female that wasn't going to give him a second look thanks to Quinn's deviousness. She'd been placing bets like crazy with both he and Cara, their other partner, since the beginning of this Quidditch season.

The last thing he wanted to talk about tonight was Quidditch, even though he was sure it was something the two of them could converse quite well on for some time. It would be a shame to have a beautiful woman sit across from him and waste it on the same sort of talk she was probably familiar with in a dinner date.

Not that this was a date, he reminded himself with that high and strident voice that always warned him of danger. And not that Rebecca Fenwick was dangerous. Not to anything but the part of him that could appreciate her beauty. The problem was that he couldn't think of many other subjects he could comfortably communicate about because, at the moment, he was still stuck on her eyes. It would be nice to know if this was Ladon's mark, though.

"Are you the one with your own security detail outside the door tonight? Or would that be," he looked over the group before deciding on the Keeper, the oldest man on the team, "Balty Gibson? He looks like he might draw the wrong sort of lot to a party like this. What was it that he collects? Tea cosies? Seems like the Cold Tea Party might be out to get a bloke like that."

His vague reply heightened her curiosity once more and she wondered exactly what he had had to give up when she and her teammates had shown the continent just what a supposed underdog could do.

At his last comment; however, her grin widened until she was laughing again. “Oh yes, the Cold Tea Party most definitely would frown upon such grievous acts. The poor dear is constantly keeping one eye open for the old bitties from across the pond that like that sort of rubbish.”

As if talking about him drew his attention, Rebecca caught Balty’s eye and waved to the older man who gave her a questioning look which she ignored. Turning back to her surprise companion for the evening, she shook her head and sobered faintly. “Yes, you’ve caught me. That is my detail out front. And back, but that’s neither here nor there, now is it?” She raised a brow, tilting her head slightly. “Are you thinking of making them earn their keep tonight?” That could be fun, though she supposed Donovan might not think so much of the idea, let alone her coach.

"Oh yes," he assured her with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. "I had hopes of making a huge scene when I decided to come out tonight. Of course, since Labon is at the front, I'm going to assume you have a bloke of fleeter foot at the back in case anyone decides to do a runner. Labon is all about intimidation with that mug of his but the boy can't fun further than the end of the block without running out of breath. Good one with a wand, though."

He cleared his throat as he realized he'd gone from talking about her job to talking, in a roundabout way, about his. "Seriously, he's good people. There are few better at what he does that are in private circulation these days." And he should know since he was the one who'd ended Ladon's career with The Group. That had been a long time ago, though.

Now her curiosity was more than peaked. For a moment, she was silent as she looked at this odd man across from her who seemed to have very personal knowledge of her security team. When he moved, switching out the empty mug for the one she had brought with her, Rebecca caught the glint of light near his wrist and let her eyes travel down to the culprit. Her eyes widened slightly as she saw the leather band with a gold rune wrapped around his wrist. She had heard of that particular accessory but had never seen one in person. Even on Labon who she knew with absolute certainty had worked for the notorious group who were rumoured to wear those.

She felt his gaze travel with hers and when she looked up, he was once again watching her. This time with an intensity that sent a shiver down her back. “He is good people. I am very fortunate.” She licked her lips and shifted in her seat. “What sort of scene would you cause, Camillo Figge?” she asked, leaning forward again.

Cam dragged his eyes away from her lips, a part of her face he hadn't noticed until she'd licked them. Christ on a tree, he wanted to taste her lips even more than he wanted to touch her hair. This woman was going to be his undoing. He'd never wanted anyone more than he wanted her right now.

He took another quick look around the room. "First, I'd go order a round of drinks for the group standing up there, the loud ones. They'd thank me and I'd make some remark about the game tomorrow, something subtle that could go either way. It would leave them thinking, a tiny wedge between the two teams."

He casually lifted a finger toward the figures still dancing. "Then I'd go plant myself in the middle of that group. I'd move that woman in the low-cut black dress away from the guy in the green and blue shirt. That would draw at least a few heated words but I'd back off and act like I didn't know they were together."

Then he pointed to the brass hat stand that stood by the door. "Then I'd disable your guard out there and lock the door, barring it from the inside with that horribly decorated hat stand. Brass is a hard metal to spell away once it's been set."

Sitting forward in his seat, Cam traced the condensation on her glass. "After I threw a few punches, I'd duck out the back and send your rear guard looking for someone who looked nothing like me."

Rebecca listened with interest as he described his bedlam, her lips quirking in a half smirk. When he was done, she reached around the tumbler, brushing her fingers over his before grasping the glass in her hand and lifting it to her lips. She ignored the shot of heat that flashed up her arm and down her core as his fingers moved to meet hers. Instead, she sat back and made a show of pondering his mayhem. After a moment, she returned the glass to the table and said, “An admiral plan but for two possibly fatal flaws.”

Standing, she moved around the table, coming to a stop at his leg and leaning her hip against the slab of wood. “One, you have underestimated the lethality of my team.” With slow, deliberate movements, Rebecca leaned over the table, her palms falling just outside of either of his hands, her eyes level with his. “And two,” she said in a low voice, “you have underestimated my part in all of this fun. Don’t you read the rags, Mr. Figge? I’m a gal who likes to be shown a good time.” She slid her hand over his and tugged until he complied and rose to his feet.

“I was thinking more along the lines of that.” She indicated her teammate in the low-cut dress and the bloke she was currently sliding her body against. With not as much resistance as she thought he might give her, Camillo let her lead him to the dance floor. She used the hand she was holding to spin herself under his arm and laughed delightedly when his hand caught her by the hip and pulled her closer as he began to sway to the music. “Let’s hope you’re not keeping me awake _all_ night,” she whispered with an impish smile. After the barest of pauses, she added, “with your so-called nightmarish dancing.”

He let her lead him about like a dog on a string because he suddenly couldn't talk. No, he decided, it was that he didn't want to say anything. There was nothing he was going to say or do to stop her, even as she led him to the one place he always refused to go. He'd never had much interest in dancing before because he knew he would come off looking like an idiot. Tonight, though, he didn't care who saw him or how he looked because he had the chance to have her up against his body in the only socially acceptable way open to him on a first meeting.

"I'll see what I can do to keep the nightmares away." He traced the outline of her lips with his eyes. "It would be a shame if you didn't get a good night's sleep after all the exertion of a night," and because two could play that game, he gave her a smirk right back, "out."

This was a game she was very familiar with. The give and take exchange of innuendo, though usually she didn't get to this stage of playful banter until at least the third encounter with a wizard. Never had a wizard thought to speak to her in such a manner ten minutes into a meeting. Of course, she had never been inclined to initiate such banter before. Pushing the advantage she had been given, she pressed closer against him as they turned with the music.

"A dreadful shame," she whispered, locking on to his gaze. Hie eyes were like deep chocolate pools and seemed to draw her further into his spell. If she had thought she was overheated from her previous dance session, it was nothing compared to the heat that was exploding through her body now. She was thankful her hair was caught up and off her neck or she may have actually had to force herself to pull away from him in an attempt to feel some cool air on her body. "Though, I often find that I sleep better after a good... _exertion_."

His thumbs slipped under the material of her shirt, rubbing against the skin above her waistband. "Exertion? You could go run around the block if you want." He pulled away slightly, indicating the door as if he was completely serious about letting her go. "I'll make sure no one takes your drink while you're gone. Will that help you sleep tonight?"

She shivered as his skin made contact with her own and when he pulled away, Rebecca released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She stumbled slightly as she tried to get her feet beneath her again. The hand on her waist tightened, balancing her once more and she shifted so that his hand ran across her abdomen as she turned to look at the door he had indicated.

"Mmm, a run," she began in a low whisper, letting her head fall back against his chest as she looked up at him, "might be a good start." She smiled up at him as she continued to move against him matching the music's rhythm. She reached behind her and cupped his face, running a finger down through the scruff covering his chin, and then, very quickly, she ducked under her own arm, turned and was backing away from him until she was an arm's length away from him. Her head tilted slightly to one side as she contemplated him, and then her lips drew up once again. "But why would you watch over my drink?" she asked, crooking her finger and beckoning him towards her. "Afraid you won't be able to keep up with me?"

Watching her move was leaving him short of breath. He wouldn't have been able to run around the block with her if his life depended on it. The only thing he could do right now was watch her move. Before he even realized it, he was following her direction but she kept moving so that he was never going to catch her in this trance. They were away from the other gyrating bodies before he finally came to his senses and picked up the pace so that he had hold of her hand before she could get any further away.

"I'd watch your drink because if I walk out that door with you, it won't be to go for a run around _this_ block." Cam pulled her back in tight against his body. "Just dance with me, pretty girl. We'll find another way of making you sleep well tonight."

Rebecca laughed, but stopped as she found herself pressed against him once more, her laughter sliding into a softer smile. "For now," she told him as the last notes of the song drifted around them. When the music slowed, she dropped her head to his shoulder and sighed. He wasn't nearly as bad at dancing as he thought he was, in fact, even without the moves being perfect, he was a strong enough partner to keep her feeling secure.

Though her body was on fire, she had to admit that just moving with him, without words, was almost more intoxicating than any liquor and innuendo-laced banter they could have shared. They stayed like that for the length of the song and when the tempo picked up again, he twirled her around before catching her by the waist again. His expression was different as he gazed down at her, softer. She could do nothing but smile back at him. "You should dance more often, Mister Figge. You're actually quite adept."

"It's nothing to do with me and all to do with my partner. You could dance with a tree, Miss Fenwick, and make it look suave and sophisticated." He wanted to kiss her, to trace those lips with his tongue instead of just his eyes.

The problem was that he knew where that was going to lead when she was looking at him with eyes that made him want to drown in the fire she was promising. Not tonight. Not like this. This was not the girl to pull into a dark corner or stagger back to her place. After the intense emotions of Geneva, he wanting nothing more than to take her up on the offer but he would be using her and this girl deserved more than being the means of blowing off some steam.

Just as he began to lower his head, just for one taste of her mouth, he caught the sound he knew well. A raised voice quivering with real anger and not just the kind that was influenced by alcohol and music. There was an answering comment, just as laced with menace. He glanced over his shoulder to see what the damage was, his body stilling when he saw that it wasn't any of the Quidditch members but two men with the dirty hair and dead eyes of a normal patron of this place.

"Who are you here with tonight? The blonde? Someone else?" She just stared at him, not comprehending what he was asking. "Rebecca," he hissed, "who are you here with tonight? You need to get out. Now."

Rebecca continued to look at him oddly. “What are you talking about?” she asked as she looked around his massive form to the men who were arguing across the room. “Oh. They’re nothing,” she told him.

There had been plenty of scuffles at the pubs they tended to frequent on these types of outings. Her usual instinct would be to call out and announce that the next round was on her, but something about the way her companion’s body was radiating tension told her that would not work tonight. Not with these men. It would not be more lager that appeased these two; it would be bloodshed. And damn whoever might get in their way. Bloody hell. Sometimes she hated testosterone.

His body was tense and his posture had shifted so that he was almost shielding her. “Camillo, it’s alright. But if it puts you at ease, we can go over there.” But she knew he was not going to be soothed by moving further away from these men, and when his jaw tightened Rebecca knew that their evening of relaxing fun had just ended. She sighed and pointed in Susanne’s direction. “Yes. The blonde. Susanne.”

As if drawn by her words, the other woman looked over the fracas and met Rebecca’s eyes. Rebecca jerked her head towards the door but before Susanne could acknowledge, a scream rent the air as the first jinx was thrown in lieu of a punch. It did not come close to its mark and bounced off the candelabra at the end of the bar.

If he had felt that he was overreacting, Cam didn't feel that way any longer. He wasn't about to let this night be completely ruined by seeing Rebecca hurt because some idiot thought he needed to out-shoot . As he pressed her toward the front door, he tried to think of another way this might end where he could spend more time with Rebecca but he couldn't think of anything.

"Labon, come get your girl," he called out as they got to the door. To Rebecca, he replied quietly, "I'll go get Susanne. Please don't come back inside."

Before she could answer, because he was half afraid she might argue with him on this, he turned around and walked back to the area where he'd last seen Susanne. She was glaring down at the man she'd been talking with earlier, looking perturbed that he was cowering away from the men at the bar with their wands out. The other people in the room were either doing the same as the man both he and Susanne were frowning at or they were cautiously edging toward the front door. If he didn't get Susanne out soon, there would be a glut of people in the only good exit.

"You and Rebecca need to get out of here," he whispered before putting a hand on Susanne's shoulder. "Go finish your night at another pub if you have to but you really shouldn't be here for this." The yelling began to escalate with a few of the females screaming (which he hoped weren't from the Harpies because that would be embarrassing to think of such dedicated birds as being screamers) as more wands were coming out of hidden locations.

"But what about-"

He shook his head. "I don't have time to argue with you or convince you otherwise. Just come with me. You can take it out of my hide later." It was hard not to grin at the thought that there might be a later to this night but he covered it up with a sneer at the woman's date. "And you might want to think about getting a new pair of trousers, mate. I'm not going to say you're an embarrassment but, well," and he left the sentence hanging with a wink.

The only warning he had that a hex was coming his way was a rush of air that made the hairs at the back of his neck stand straight up. Working on instinct, he pushed Susanne to the side, a table preventing the two of them from falling to the ground. She proved to be as light on her feet as she was in the air as she rolled away before he could crush her and hunkered down under the table. As he pushed himself past her position, he saw that she wasn't cowering but had pulled her own wand and had it pointed toward the threat.

"No time," he shouted as the sound in the pub had risen to a headache-inducing drone. "I'll cover you. Get to that door and don't let anyone stand in your way."

Cam had no real intention of following her but he suddenly had a desire to watch them leave just to assure himself that they were gone. When she was safely through the door, he took a look around. For the most part, no one was really using their wands for anything worse than he'd seen in the typical drunken brawl in the wee hours of the morning. He didn't have much time if he was going to keep it from getting worse.

Susanne and Rebecca were standing behind Labon and another man that Cam didn't recognise but they both had their wands trained on Cam before he could get his hands up in the air to show that he wasn't a threat. Even then, they didn't lower their weapons. He stopped at the edge of the perimeter that the wands created. While he wished they were already gone, they knew what he wanted and he wasn't about to push that on them once again. He wasn't in charge of their security and he wasn't in charge of Rebecca's decisions.

Rebecca rolled her eyes, irritation coursing through her body. It was a part of her life, but that didn't mean she didn't despise being shuffled around when things became intense, not only by the security team that lived with she and Susanne, but by Benjy when he came to visit. And now by a man she had thought might end up doing more than keeping her warm this evening. Labon had wanted to take her from the scene the moment she had been urged through the door by Camillo Figge, but she had insisted that she would say her good nights to her companion and of all of her team, Labon was the least likely to argue with her. It's why she always insisted he be the one to come to these outings with her.

"Put those down, you twits," she hissed, grabbing at Lawerence's arm. He was not moving so she turned her attention back to Labon. "Labon, you know the man is no threat to us." When neither of the men moved, Rebecca threw her arms in the air. "Fine. Keep your bloody sticks pointed at him. If you accidentally hex me in the back I will have you regretting that for a month to come." She caught Susanne's eye and had to work hard not to smile and lose the ire she was trying to direct at the security detail. "Just give me a moment and then you can lock us up in our rooms for the evening and I promise to give you no more trouble tonight."

She pushed past the two men and stood in front of Camillo. "I suppose I should thank you." She didn't much feel like thanking him, though. In fact, she would rather she be allowed to march back inside and curse the two men who had ruined an evening that had held great promise. With a sigh, she managed to smile. "Thank you for rescuing my best friend from the clutches of the drunken prats who arsed up our evening." Realizing suddenly that she didn't know how to get in contact with him, she sobered and tilted her head, a frown creasing her brow. In a much quieter voice, she added, "Will I see you again, then?"

Cam bent down and touched her forehead with his own. "Yes. Most definitely, yes. Here." He pulled a card out of his pocket and pushed it into her hand. "Sometime, when you're going out on the town, think of me and touch this card. I'll find you."

A scream carried out from the doorway, reminding him what he was supposed to be doing instead of flirting out in the shadows. Time was of the essence. After wrapping her hand around the card, he reached up and pulled the band out of her hair so it fell back to her shoulders. He ran his hand through the soft length before wrapping his hands in it, using it to bring her head closer to his. Her mouth closer to his mouth.

He'd only intended to barely touch her lips with his before letting her go but she smelled too good and her lips were too soft. Instead he pulled her closer, wrapping his other arm around her body so that she couldn't get away from him, even if she'd wanted to.

For a moment, when his hand slid through her hair, Rebecca had a momentary flash of panic. It wasn’t that she particularly minded being sweaty in public, hell she earned a living working up a sweat in public, but having the tall, dark, and indescribably handsome man you had been flirting with run his hand through what was possibly a headful of sweaty hair was enough to panic even the most confident of women. But when his eyes found hers and his hand twined in her hair, that panic was replaced with the longing she’d been feeling since spotting him alone at his table.

Though she had seen the intention in his eyes and known that he was about to kiss her, Rebecca was still unprepared when his mouth covered hers. It took her half a breath to respond and when his arm wrapped around her, she found herself relaxing into him, her own hands sliding up a chest hard as marble and curling into the fabric of his Henley.

Rebecca forgot everything in that moment. She did not recognize the flash of light she knew even with her eyes closed; she did not register the sounds coming from inside or the laugh that came from her best friend; and she certainly did not hear the irritated grumbling of the security detail. In that moment, all that existed was this man who tasted of ale and something sweet and spicy like cinnamon and the way he was sending every nerve ending in her body into an electric nose dive.

It was too short and yet never-ending. She couldn’t have said how long Camillo’s lips had covered hers, though she knew it couldn’t possibly have been more than a few seconds, but when Labon’s arm closed over her wrist, Rebecca momentarily forgot where she was and how she’d gotten there. She was breathless and a bit light headed and more than a little thankful for the two men who would have caught her if she’d fallen to her knees right then and there.

“Enough, Figge,” Labon growled, though when Rebecca looked at him, she saw the spark of something like amusement lingering in his eyes. “Go take care of what you need to.” To Rebecca he added, “You’ve had your good-night. Now you will let me lock you away as you promised.”

"Go," Cam whispered, finding that he had no voice as he struggled to remember who he was and why he was standing outside with an audience. "I promise, the next bar fight that isn't the night before a game, you can stick around."

With a last look at her to memorize her features, on the off chance that she decided not to use the card and he wasn't able to track Labon down again, and a wry smile, he turned and ran back into the room. Heads were going to roll.

Susanne looked at her friend's face when they arrived back at the room they'd been assigned. She hated having to stay in rented rooms when they had a perfectly nice house only a Floo network away but rules were rules and this was one that she had to keep. "Who was that and why in the world haven't you told me about him before? Because if this was your first meeting than what in the world were you doing pressed up against him like that on the dance floor? And that kiss... what was that?"

Rebecca fell down on the bed, burying her face in her pillow. She felt like she was fifteen years old and had just been given her first kiss. After a moment, she rolled over but couldn’t quite wipe the smile from her face.

“That, Suze, was Camillo Figge,” she said in a pitch slightly higher than was normal. Merlin, she was in trouble if the man could put a smile on her face after just a simple kiss. In truth; however, there was nothing _simple_ about that kiss. “And if those berks hadn’t thought to air their petty grievances tonight, I might have been doing more than pressing against him on the dance floor.” Susanne was the only person in the entire universe that Rebecca would ever be so strikingly honest with.

With a laugh, she threw her pillow at her best friend. “And what do you mean what was I doing pressed up against him like that? As if you have never slithered over a man you just met before.”

"Yes, but that's where we are different, Precious. _I_ am the one who is expected to pick up a guy and treat him like a wall hanging each time we go out." Susanne pulled out a brush and began to run it through her hair as if she needed to have it smooth that very minute. Her little world had been rocked tonight as she'd watched her friend dancing with a stranger as if she might fancy him for more than a drink and a shag. The jealousy had gotten rid of any buzz the alcohol might have induced. Not for her friend. For the man. Rebecca was hers. How dare he get in the way of that.

It took a moment for her to be able to put the smile back on her face but she turned back around with a knowing smile. "You like him. After twenty minutes and one kiss, you like him. Try to stop smiling. I dare you."

Susanne had a point. It wasn't something Rebecca normally found herself doing, but that didn't mean it _couldn't_ happen, right? She laughed at her friend's observations, knowing full well they were likely correct, but intent on proving Susanne wrong just on principle. After a deep breath, she focused and pulled her features into a more serious state, but her lips twitched and curved up of their own accord and she once again dissolved into laughter. She pulled herself up and leaned back against the wall. "And what if I do?" she asked genially. "Maybe he has a perfectly fit friend you can ogle."

"I do not need Marshmallow Twig, or whatever his name is, to get me a man. I can do that very well on my own, thank you very much." But Susanne couldn't stop smiling as she watched Rebecca looking so happy. There had been times, especially lately with all that her brother, Benjy, was getting himself into, that it had seemed as if nothing would ever make her friend smile again. "But if his friend is especially fit, then... perhaps, we'll talk. But, and I must remain very firm on this, I do not double date. It too uncomfortable when both the men decide they like me better and leave you to cry in your soup. It would ruin our friendship and I will have none of it. It is one of my rules. Don't make me pull out the list again. I have it around here somewhere." She opened an empty drawer and peered inside. Then she stood up and looked in the closet before finally looking under the bed that Rebecca was sitting on. "I could have sworn it was the first thing I unpacked. What did I do with those rules? I do think I should have Mrs. ____ embroider them on a pillow for me. They would travel so much better on a pillow. Or a collection of pillows. You know my list is very long. Almost too long, really."

She sat down beside Rebecca, putting her arms around her and pillowing her head on the girl's soft brown hair. "Not even for you, dearest of friends, would I bend this rule. But I'm glad that he's giving you something to smile about. It would be a shame if he were ever to make you frown. I would hate to have that sort of blood on my hands."

Rebecca laughed and leaned into Susanne. It amused her when Susanne acted protective of her because it rarely happened. Rebecca rarely gave her cause. She slipped her arms around her friend's waist. "I know you do not _need_ help getting a man, but if he has friends that fill out a Henley as well as _Camillo_ does, why not let him parade them around to fulfill your every desire?"

Slipping out of Susanne's embrace, she sat up. "And you do not need to worry about blood on your hands, lovie. If he makes me frown in a manner that would cause you to gut him, you will not beat me to it." She kissed Susanne's cheek before popping up and making her way to the loo. "And we've been on plenty of doubles," she called out as she started the water to wash her face, "Why would this be any different? Do you _honestly_ think I'll have trouble keeping that man's attention?" She leaned out the door and graced her best friend with a toothbrush filled grin.

"We do not go on double dates," Susanne replied with a pout, the one that she knew looked the best from her left side. Pity Rebecca was looking at her from her right. "We start out the night as a two but never end up as a four, nor do we ever intentionally start the night as a four. You and I have fun together and I think we'll end this conversation before you decide we need to rectify this situation."

Susanne pulled off her silk shirt and threw it at her bag without the care that the fabric required. She didn't care. It hadn't done it's job so she didn't feel she needed to treat it nicely. "So when will you be seeing this _god_ of the Henleys again?"

Rebecca watched her friend for a moment, and then shrugged and returned to the loo to finish her nightly activities. Susanne was acting oddly but that wasn't necessarily unusual. Her night had also been cut short by the ruckus at the pub. Perhaps she was just miffed about that as well. When Rebecca had washed her face and run a brush through her hair, she joined Susanne again.

"I don't know," she said and reached into her pocket to retrieve the paper he had given her. "He told me use this," she held up the card to Susanne, "when I wanted to see him and he'd find me." She finally looked at it and frowned. On the little white rectangle was a name, but not Camillo Figge's name. Rebecca made a noise of curiousity as she wondered who the blazes Quinn O'Mara was. Not likely a lover of any sorts. People didn't normally carry around business cards for lovers or spouses, so Rebecca was pretty sure she wouldn't have some jealous witch coming after her. The only logical option her mind could come up with at the moment was that Quinn O'Mara was some kind of associate of Camillo's, but that was almost as dreary an option as the unlikely lover scenario. Was she supposed to contact this O'Mara person in order to get in touch with Camillo again? She almost snorted at the idea. That would look a bit desperate and if there was one thing Rebecca Fenwick wasn't, it was desperate.

Pulling herself from her thoughts, Rebecca shook her head and slipped the card into her gear bag before slipping out of her own clothes. "So that bloke you abandoned me for, did you manage to get his information before those locals decided to go testosterone on us?" she asked, pulling on her sleepwear and crawling into her bed.

"The one who started crying when he saw the wands come out and wet himself when your Camillo came to find me? No, I didn't get any information and I don't think I would have kept it if I had. Who knew that such a pretty boy could be just that... a boy." She pulled her sleepwear out of her bag. "I'm going to take a shower. Should I turn out the light for you?"

Rebecca just managed to bite back a laugh and look sympathetically at her friend. "I'm sorry, sweet. And I'm sorry I sent Camillo for you but I wasn't about to leave you there with those idiots and he was very insistent that I leave before it got out of hand. Given that band I saw on his wrist, I trusted his instincts. As did Labon. I wouldn't have ruined your night otherwise."

"You didn't ruin it," Susanne informed her with a smile as she sat down on Rebecca's bed, her hand reaching out to take hold of the hand that Rebecca placed on the pillow under her cheek. "My instincts were just off. It happens from time to time. I'll blame Leeds and that will just make our victory over them tomorrow to be all the more beautiful. It was good that you trusted his instincts and even better that you were able to see past his face to what he had on his arm. Same thing that some of the boys have when they first come to work for Donovan?"

Rebecca nodded. They had often talked about the group who ran about undermining the Ministry at every opportunity. It was different than the work Benjy did. Of that, they were sure, even if Benjy had never really _said_ what he did. "Yes. And he knew Labon." Her lips curved again and she sighed. Honestly. It was a bit ridiculous that she couldn't not smile when she thought about Camillo Figge.

She looked back up at the other woman and shook her head. "You're too good to me." She brought Susanne's hand up and kissed it before cradling it under her cheek again along with her own hand. Her smile slid into a grin. "But I suppose you're only not hexing me because that bloke turned out to be such a girl's blouse."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'll admit that you do owe me a night on the town and we'll make your Cam take us. You two can dance together as if you want to share one set of clothing and I'll find myself a nice man who isn't afraid of wands. Maybe two." Her expression softened as she continued to work through the feelings that tonight's escapade had brought up. "I'm glad you found someone as nice as this bloke appears to be, Precious." She put her other hand down so that she was framing the woman's face before bending down so their noses nearly touched. "If he keeps your mind away from the game tomorrow, I will take it out of your hide. Do we understand each other? No man stands in the way of that title."

"You wound me, Susanne ," Rebecca whispered. "Deeply. As if I would ever let a man get in the way of _our_ victory." She grew serious for the first time since they'd come back to the inn they were staying at and shifted so that she could reach up and take a hold of Susanne's wrists. She lifted her head so that their noses actually did touch. "I promised you another title and I won't let anything stand in our way, Suze. Nothing. Not even the delectable likes of Camillo Figge. If I seem even the least bit distracted tomorrow, or ever, you have my permission to come up and hit me with my own bat." A smirk settled on her lips. "As long as you promise to make it feel better after the game."

"Cheeky brat," Susanne whispered. She dropped a kiss on Rebecca's cheek before pulling away and grabbing up her sleepwear once again. "I'm turning off the light and I expect you to be asleep when I get come back out. Big day tomorrow." Before the other girl could answer, she picked up her wand from the top of the bureau and turned off the lights. When the door was shut behind her, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She needed that shower. Oh, yes, she did.


	3. Enjoy the Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Events from the night before come back to haunt Cam and Quinn gets the opportunity to go to a Quidditch match.

It had been easy enough to fall asleep, what with the free ale he'd been lauded until the wee hours. Much easier than it was proving to wake up. It didn't help that the pillow he'd been using had been pulled out from under his head and was being pounded all over his body. There were definite sore spots that he would need to see to when he was allowed out of this hell.

"Get up! Get up! Get up!" Quinn was yelling. When that didn't work, she got close. He could feel her breath on his cheek even though he was refusing to open his eyes. "If you don't get out of bed this instant," she whispered with definite menace, "I will get the water that Cara is heating up for tea and pour it all over you. Every naked inch of you, you great lout."

"If I'm naked," he muttered, his upper lip feeling like it would need to be healed, "then why would you want me out of bed? Go turn on the shower and give me some peace for a minute or two and I'll give in to your demands."

This was about the newspaper article, he decided. He'd paid the man good money to only print the pictures he thought would do the least damage but he'd been unable to sway the man on anything in print. There had been a sizable tip so he could only hope that he didn't come off badly.

The last thing he wanted to do this morning was to talk to Cara and Quinn about last night. He preferred his dreams which had been full of dark-haired beauties on brooms. Not that any of them had been Rebecca Fenwick and he'd spent most of his time looking for her, but it had still been a nice dream.

And that kiss. He tried to keep from smiling, his split lip reminding him that signs of merriment weren't feasible until he was able to find his broom but he didn't care. If he closed his eyes, he could almost remember the exact way she smelled. He couldn't place any of the scents but they'd all worked together.

He'd already planned on going to the game today but now he wondered what time afterward that he could find to see her again. Would she think him forward if he kissed her as soon as he saw her? That didn't seem like an acceptable action but he didn't care about acceptable.

He toweled off and dressed in fresh clothing, grateful that this was a safe house where he'd stored some clothes. His wand wasn't where he'd left it but he was going to assume that Quinn had hidden it so he'd have to wait to heal the bruises and split lip.

"Take your best shot, Quinn," he started to say as he walked into the front room/kitchen area. Instead of just Quinn and Cara, he found himself staring into the twinkling eyes of Gideon Prewett. "Wasn't expecting your ugly mug this morning, Gid."

"Really? I'm surprised." The red-head held up a newspaper. "I do believe you owe me for this one. I thought we agreed you weren't going to be in any more bar brawls that made the front page."

"Any more? I'm pretty sure this is the first that's ever made the front page. I don't so much care for this picture although that is a glorious upper cut. This is the one that interests me." Quinn folded her paper to the second page where the upper half was taken up with... oh Merlin's arse. He hadn't thought of the photographer being there when he kissed Rebecca. That obviously hadn't been part of their agreement or he would have definitely vetoed it. Of course, he would have asked for a copy first. "Now you're chasing Quidditchers, Cam? Seriously?"

“What’s wrong with chasing Quidditchers?” Cara asked, peering over Quinn’s shoulder at the image of Cam holding one Rebecca Fenwick to him as he kissed her like he’d known her his whole life. Cara would have liked to have seen how it ended but the photograph didn’t show Cam pulling away. Even still, it seemed a little too steamy for a weekday news edition but he supposed somebody like Rebecca Fenwick would sell quite a few issues. This was a gold mine for the lucky photographer who had caught the intimate moment between the near perfect strangers. “Besides, he doesn’t look like he’s doing much chasing there, Quinny."

He ducked the paper as it swung up towards his face. With a quick grab, Caradoc snatched the paper from her hands and dropped into a chair. He propped his feet up on the small table and leaned back, lifting the front legs of the chair from the ground. “I think,” he added as he looked at his friend, “if you’re going to aim for that sort of perfection, you might as well shoot for the stars. Bloody hell, mate. Next time you’re partying with a bunch of fit Quidditch birds, contact a bloke, yeah?”

"It wasn't like I went there in the hopes of finding them or that I went out in first place with any intention of meeting up with them. These things aren't always planned." Cam walked over to look over Cara's shoulder to get a better view of the picture. Once again, he was blown away by just how beautiful Rebecca was. He looked like a great hulking troll next to her but then no one would be looking at him.

He looked up and instantly stopped smiling as he met Quinn's disapproving eyes. "What? Can't I have a little fun or is it only Cara's job to meet women?"

"Kiss who you want but this front page spread has some interesting details, some of which are bordering on personal. This close to Geneva, it leaves me a little twitchy."

Cam nudged Cara to turn the page back. "Like what? Oh." A full description of him as he was fighting. The fact that he never pulled his wand and that he had a brown wristband on his arm. He should have just given the man his name and left it at that. Better yet, he should have hit him when he'd had the chance. "I was trying for diplomatic."

"Next time, call me. That's part of my job description. If you were the diplomatic one, I could retire to the south of France and start working on a tan. Or better yet, look up Rhys and see if he has a job for me." Her lip twitched, a sure sign that her anger was just a front and that she wanted to smile and congratulate him on his good luck but she was holding back. More and more these days, Quinn was starting to hold back. That might have worried him a couple of years ago but she was big girl and hadn't she been telling him for years that she could take care of herself? About time he let her do just that.

"It's nothing that hasn't been in the papers from time to time." Gideon was enjoying himself and Cam wanted to know why. After the explosion in Geneva, something he and Cara shouldn't have walked away from, Gideon had been livid. Now he was relaxed and smiling. Something was going on.

Caradoc laughed, reviewing the story once again. “What part of slamming that man’s face into the table is diplomatic, Cam?” He handed the other man the paper and stood, throwing an arm around Quinn’s shoulders. “And you, my dear, wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you didn’t have us to plot and scheme for and clean up after all the time. So enough with the running off to join up with Rhys. We both know you’re not going anywhere.” He dropped a kiss on her head before heading across the small room to the whistling kettle. Sure, he could have used magic but some things were better without the use of a spell. And these safe houses served their purpose better when they weren’t covered with traces of magic.

“So why are you really here, Gid?” Cara asked as he poured the steaming water over loose leaves in four mugs. “Fabian find something useful?”

Gideon sighed and stretched his arms over his head before settling back in his chair, somewhat less relaxed than he'd been. "No, not incredibly useful. It was a thorough job with the detonation sites right where you would have been if you'd actually followed through with what we'd discussed. I don't like it at all."

"Understatement," Quinn muttered but she'd lost a few shades of colour when the conversation topic had come up.

He spared her a quick glance before continuing. "I have another idea I'd like you to try. No, I take that back. This isn't a request. I figure you owe me an order since you didn't follow the last one."

"Thus saving our lives," Cam reminded him as he struggled to pull his eyes away from the picture of Rebecca. If he wasn't careful, he was going to find himself doing nothing but staring at the picture. As it was, he only had a few hours before he would be able to see her again.

"Right. You saved your own lives by disobeying my request. We've been around that once or twice. So you owe me this one and we'll go back to our normal give and take where I tell you something and you decide to do something else entirely."

Caradoc handed out the tea mugs, with Gideon’s last. He nudged the man’s chair with his foot. “You’d not have us any other way, Gid. You wouldn’t want to mess with perfection after all.” He grinned down at the man before dropping into his vacated seat in front of Cam.

It wasn’t an arrogant statement, just the truth. He knew they were Gideon’s most effective team. Cara, Cam, and Quinn worked seamlessly together. Even better than Cara and Fab had worked together and they had known each other far longer than Cara had known his current teammates and best friends. The three of them knew each other so well that there hadn’t been much of a learning curve when they’d come together. They had just meshed into a solid team. Cam’s style complemented Cara’s style and Quinn knew them both so well she could anticipate even the slightest of variations in a plan and be waiting for them when they arrived. Whatever it was, it worked better than anybody ever could have dreamed of and it was the reason Gideon let them get away with as much as they did.

He tilted his chair back again, lifting his mug that when Cam knocked the back of the chair, the liquid sloshed out onto the floor instead of Caradoc’s lap. “So how will you be collecting? What is it you need from us?” When the tea stopped waving, he lifted it to his lips.

"I need you and Cam to go the Obscurus Research Collective this afternoon. There's someone there who's been collecting information for me, well, for us. It's not something that anyone else knows about but I think it could prove to be something very important for The Group." Gideon blew over the surface of his tea. "And it's not a request. It's an order."

Cam snorted. He sat down in his chair and pulled the paper over so he could still see it. "Nope. I've got a Quidditch game to attend."

"Not a request. An order."

"No. I've had this ticket for weeks now. We agreed that we would go do Geneva even though it was supposed to be Gerard's team that went in and that I would be able to make this match." Cam shook his head, his mouth hurting as equally with the frown he currently wore as it had with the goofy smile. "I'm not giving up this game."

"I'll take the ticket." Quinn was stirring most of the sugar in the bowl into her cooling tea. "I haven't been to a match in forever. That way you won't be out any money and I'll be able to tell you how well Rebecca played. It's the perfect solution."

“Have the two of you no hearts?” Caradoc asked, though his lips twitched at one corner in direct contradiction to the seriousness of his tone. “Can you not see that the big tough bear is in desperate need of his Rebecca Fenwick fix? Would you really send me out with him in this state, Gideon?”

Cam growled and Cara laughed. “But seriously, Gid. It’s a research shop. I’m sure I can handle it on my own. Why stick me with grouchy braids,” he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, “when I can probably obtain the information quicker and easier without him. No offense, mate.”

"You'll have to trust me on this, Cara. You both need to be there. And it needs to be this afternoon. We need this information. There is a possibility that it could be a big help to both of you. And, in a way, to all of us."

Quinn stood up and pushed her chair in "Well, don't I suddenly feel all left out in the cold." She bent over the back of the chair so she was back at their level again, not that there was much of a difference when they were sitting down, her face wreathed in a huge smile. "Oh wait. I have a ticket to a Quidditch match. With any luck, I'll find my own sap who doesn't have a chance in hell of landing a Quidditch girl. Wouldn't that just be lovely."

When she straightened, she pulled Cam's wand out of her left back pocket and a thin rectangular piece of paper with a gleaming gold and green crest out of the other. "Here's your wand back, Cam. You're going to need it for that lip. It's getting puffy. And it's a good thing I lifted this while I was in your room. That way you won't have to hand it over. The deed is already done."

She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek as he took the wand. "Don't pout, Cam. Go find out a lot of research. It'll do your head good to be filled with knowledge." Before he could clout her a good one for her cheekiness, she slid over to Cara and framed his face with her hand. As she kissed first one cheek and then the other, she said, "Wonderful tea, as always, Cara my love. Don't let Cam get too growly or he'll scare all that knowledge right back into the books."

When she got to Gideon, she hugged his neck and tousled his thinning hair. "I am eternally grateful that you brought the paper to us this morning, Gideon. If I was the kind of girl who liked to have favours hanging over her head, I'd give you one but we both know that won't happen."

"Ta," she called out over her shoulder as she hit the door at a run, leaving the males in the room to stare after her.

"Bastard," Cam muttered with less heat than he would have before Quinn's performance. "She stole my ticket. Why in the world did you let her in my room? I thought I locked the door. If she figured out the locking spells in this safe house, I'm going to have to ask that we buy a new safe house where she hasn't figured out all the wards and spells."

Caradoc chuckled as he watched her go, thinking that whatever poor sap Quinn set her sights on today would have little chance of declining her every wish. Knowing her, she would probably chat up one of the blokes from just to spite them all. As long as it wasn't their Seeker, Cara would be content, but that man was the most arrogant piece of work Cara had ever had the displeasure of meeting and he would hate to have to embarrass the fellow by giving him an extra appendage if he even so much as thought the wrong thing about Quinn.

He finished his tea and then turned his attention back to his partner. "Don't turn that glare on me, Figge. You wouldn't have told her no, either. Not that it would have mattered, you know there is no stopping her when she puts her mind to a task. Though, her task was made easier this morning , mate, because you did not lock your door when you stumbled in last night." He smirked and then looked over at Gideon.

"So who is it we're meant to meet at this research building, then? Are they expecting us or are we to just go in there and disrupt their daily business?" He hoped it was the latter, actually. He was in a rather chipper mood this morning, and it was usually a laugh to watch Cam interact with these informants when he was in a foul mood. "That's always fun, and it might make Mister Sulky Pants happier to ruin somebody else's day."

Gideon pulled out a stiff white card with his name embossed on it and a folded piece of paper. "You'll give this to the woman at the front desk. She'll find Marlene for you. When Marlene comes out, you'll give her this piece of paper to verify both that I sent you and what I want her to find for you."

"And you need both of us for that?" Cam growled, the urge to hit Gideon into unconsciousness and run from the room after Quinn still very strong He was agitated in a way that he hadn't been in a long time. "Cause I think Cara is perfectly capable of handing over a card."

"I need both of you there," Gideon reiterated for what felt like the fiftieth time.

Cara took the card and stuffed it into his pocket before unfolding the paper and reading the words scribbled down. "You want us to go to this place and ask about Greater Phoenician book binding?" he asked as he looked back up to Gideon with a puzzled look. There were often things Gideon Prewett had them do that didn't make sense at the time but had always panned out for them. This one, however, had even Caradoc questioning his old friend's sanity. "What the bloody hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Because I'm going to write my intentions out in black and white?" Gideon drained his cup before pushing his chair back. "Just keep an open mind. That's all I ask. She'll do the rest. Any more questions before I leave?"

Cara rolled his eyes and shoved the paper into his pocket as well. Whatever Phoenician book binding was code for, he hoped it was at least interesting. Books bored him to no end. He'd hoped to leave them behind when he'd finished school.

"Yes," he said as he stood and gathered the mugs from the table. "How old is this Marlene you are sending us to aggre- err, to meet today?" He tried to keep a straight face, but he couldn't and so he let himself laugh at the tight expression in Gideon's eyes. "Don't worry, Gid. You've successfully ensured that I'll have no chance to chat her up with this one tagging along."

"She's a few years younger than Quinn. And you, I suppose." It was always easy to remember that Quinn was young, seeing as she still looked twelve, especially when she was trying to look older, but Gideon often forgot that Cara was only a year older than the girl. The team was young, he reminded himself, and getting younger every day. "Ravenclaw. Please don't tell me that her. I've always thought that the Claws were smarter than that."

Caradoc grinned though he couldn't recall if he actually knew this Marlene who was a few years younger. "Oh their brilliant, Gid. Which is why they're smart enough to know a good time when they meet him." He laughed at Gideon's expression and then waved the rag he was using to clean the mugs in the other man's direction. "Now go so Cam and I can discuss breakfast before we go and chat with your Marlene."

"Fine. Fine. Just be," _on your best behaviour? gentle? yourselves?_ None of those were going to work so Gideon gave up while he was ahead. "Just don't leave the place in worse condition than you found it, yeah? I'll tell Adi you send your love because heaven knows you've turned her hair prematurely gray these days."

He was almost to the door when he remembered something he hadn't remembered to caution him about. "You might have know Marlene as a McKinnon but she doesn't use that last name. It's not something you should bandy about, not with the tension between the clan and the government right now. She goes by Marlene Matthews."

A McKinnon. That changed things quite a bit. Caradoc didn't know why Gideon hadn't just mentioned that in the first place and saved them all the time.

"Good to know," Cara said over his shoulder. When he heard the door close, he turned to look at his partner. "I can't place her. Can you?" Cam was still glowering at the door so Cara threw the dish rag at his partner. "Get over it. We'll do this and then you can see if you can go to the bloody pitch and catch her after the game. Maybe I'll go with you and see if one of her pretty teammates is up for a bit of fun as well. How long could this possibly take?"

Cam scrubbed at his face, trying to see whatever bright side it was that Cara was pushing at him. He wasn't feeling good about where this day was headed. Seeing Rebecca again would cement the fact that she really did exist and last night wasn't just a figment of his imagination and too many pints of ale.

"Do I ever know anyone that was in school with us? I didn't care then and I don't care now. But knowing these little outings of that Gideon plans, it could take far longer than we think it will. They always do. That hour we were supposed to spend in Blackpool last spring turned into a four day job." He blew out the breath he'd been holding. "You making breakfast here or are we going out? I could eat a bear."

Cara shrugged. "Of course you didn't pay attention," he sighed. He didn't know why he bothered to ask but sometimes Cam surprised him. This obviously wasn't one of those times.

"We'll go out. I made tea. That's the extent of my generosity this morning."


	4. It All Goes Boom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cam and Cara arrive at the ORC for their meeting with Marlene.

When Marlene got the summons saying that there were gentlemen in the front receiving area asking for her specifically, she had to suppress a chuckle. Leave it to Gideon Prewett to pick the one day that she hadn't expected visitors, not that she ever did. Master Bertram (who was only a year older than she was but demanded that all the employees under him called him _Master_ as if the title gave him a strength of character he otherwise lacked) hated when she met visitors and she didn't blame him. Today, especially, she was covered in dust from moving the Scarlett Section to a more secure location and away from the books in the Indigo Section and wouldn't have come up for anyone but Gideon.

Five years ago, when Dorcas Meadows had tracked her down and offered her a means of making a few extra knuts now and again, she'd thought her former roommate was crazy. Who could possibly want to know the sort of minutia that she saw in her visions? That's all it had been at first. Minutia. All she'd been able to tell Gideon in the beginning what he was going to have for dinner or what kind of transport he had taken here. That had been enough for him but he always pushed her to keep trying and practicing when she would have rather stayed tucked away, amoung the books. Now she felt as if she gave him some information he could use, although why he cared she didn't really know. He'd only smile and nod and tell her 'Well done, Miss Matthews' and she went back to her books with a lighter air.

She burst through the door with a greeting already halfway out of her mouth before she realized that Gideon Prewett wasn't either of the men waiting in the rickety chairs that always wobbled something dreadfully. "Oh," she coloured, dropping her eyes from the man who stood up at her entrance. The other stayed where he was, his arms crossed over his chest, but she didn't mind. One large man looming over her was plenty. "I apologize. You aren't who I thought you would be. Who are you waiting for? I'll go get them."

Caradoc studied the woman, his lips twitching at her flush. He couldn't attach this woman's face (a shame because she was quite fit) with any from his school days though he suspected this was Marlene McKinnon-Matthews from her initial reaction.

He moved towards her and leaned over the counter. "We're looking for Miss Matthews," he said, flashing her a brilliant smile.

"That would be me," she answered slowly, unsure of why they were here when she'd received word that it was Gideon who was waiting for her. She worked up the courage to meet the eyes of the man talking to see if she could ascertain his identity but all she saw was a smile. Smiles like that made her nervous. Smiles like that wanted something that she was unsure she wanted to give. What did Gideon think he was doing by sending them here? This was never their arrangement and she could have done with some warning. Although, the saner part of her brain reminded her, having advance warning of a visit usually negated anything that she might have to share. Thinking too long and too hard about a person or a place usually just muddled it.

"May I ask why you're here?" She couldn't bring herself to sound at all inviting as she asked her question.

Caradoc's smile grew as he chuckled internally. He withdrew the paper and held it out to her, ducking his head until he was able to force her to meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry if you weren't expecting us." And she clearly hadn't been as evidenced by her dusty, ragged appearance. Cara thought it was actually a bit appealing on this woman. "Gid said it would be all right to just drop in."

He jutted a thumb over his shoulder. "The bear is Camillo Figge. I'm Caradoc Dearborn." He held his hand out to her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Matthews."

She recognised both the names, even if she didn't see any resemblance to the boys she vaguely remembered in the faces of these men. As she looked from the request on the paper to the man waiting for her response to his physical invitation, she wondered just what they knew. There was no way she was going to touch him until they were somewhere away from prying eyes. As she thought about what room she might be able to use for this meeting, she realized she had a headache. Not the normal kind from reading long hours in poor light but the kind that told her there was something waiting for her as soon as she opened herself up. Wonderful. Just wonderful.

Putting the paper carefully into her pocket, Marlene took a deep breath and walked to the doorway that led to the rooms that readers were able to use while perusing the books and scrolls they requested to view. There were a few that were out of the normal path of traffic that she'd used before. "If you'll follow me, I can get you that information that you're requesting."

Cara eyed the woman as she turned from him, her tone even less inviting than it had been a moment before. He rolled his eyes as he heard Cam's chuckle and refused to meet his partner's eyes.

When he reached the door, Cara was forced to turn when he didn't feel his friend's presence. He turned and raised an expectant eyebrow at Cam. The larger man stood and without a word told Cara just how displeased he was with this afternoon's _mission_. It soothed a bit of the ego Marlene Matthews had just tried to bruise.

They silently followed the girl through the stacks and into a room that was somewhat separated from the other areas. He took a seat in the chair that Matthews had indicated.

"What exactly do you have for us Miss Matthews?" he asked, still smiling at her despite that she had shot him down not a minute before.

"I`m going to assume that Gideon has told you nothing about this meeting. If he had, you wouldn`t have held out your hand to me. That means I am in the fortunate position of explaining this to you." The _damn you, Gideon_ was evident in her tone. "But he would have told you I was a McKinnon, to prepare you, so I will let you in on a secret that few people know, including my family. I have the same ability as the elders of my clan."

"Christ on a cross, this is ridiculous," Cam breathed but he had the piece of mind to keep his voice quiet. "What are you going to do? Read our auras? Tell us who we`re going to marry?"

Marlene took a deep breath, trying to control her temper. If she let it go, she would only hurt herself. "What I am going to do is verify your identities. No, keep your cards in your pockets. I don't need a simple spell on a piece of paper, after all. I just need to be able to touch your rune." This was the easy part. No magical overflow could hurt her by touching the leather braces because they didn't absorb any from the spells the wearer used and only contained what spells the individual asked of it. That kept things very simple for her. She could ask for what she needed and knew she wouldn't get anything she didn't.

Caradoc made a sound almost like a snort as she dismissed their identity spell as a simple charm as it was anything but simple. All the same, he was still amused at the way this afternoon was playing out. He pulled up his sleeve and leaned across the table so she could touch the rune in his band. He met her eyes when she reached out and his lips curved again as the image of a much younger Cara, Fabian, and Gideon moved about in his mind. It had been a proud moment, one of his proudest in fact, when Fabian had handed over the specially crafted band and Gideon had secured it around his wrist.

When Marlene had pulled her hand back, Caradoc leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. “Your turn Big Boy,” he said in Cam’s direction, his arch tone matching the spark of pleasure in his eyes. “Be a gentleman and come closer for the lady.”

Cam growled but did as Cara asked. He was glad that one of them was enjoying himself because this was total crap. This bird was going to tell them the future? Is this why Gideon had him redo his day? For this?

He waited for the familiar memory to come to the forefront before he went back to leaning against the far wall, across from the door. There was no way he was going to make this easy for her.

Marlene rubbed her eyes before pulling out her void stone. The thick chunk of clear stone fit nicely in her palm although she didn't think it worked as nearly as well as the witch who sold it to her claimed. There were still things pounding at her subconscious, asking to come in. Normally, with Gideon, she had to make skin contact and nearly beg the visions to come. She had a feeling that, with these two, she was going to get more than she bargained for.

"Right. So did Gideon mention what he wanted to know? Is there something you want to know?" She didn't look at Cam as he muttered something about wanting to see how Gideon was going to die. "There are rules, of course. I refuse to tell you how or when you die. Most of what I see isn't static and can be changed but I can't tell you how that change occurs."  
Caradoc chuckled as Cam went back to pouting and wondered how he could draw this out to irritate his mate the most. It would be nothing he didn't deserve after acting so petulant, but in truth, it would only be because Camillo Figge was an amusing beast when he was grumpy.

There was a multitude of things Cara wanted to know, though he didn't know where to start. And none of them really had anything to do with Gideon or The Group, which actually made it even better. He wasn't really that familiar with the type of ability the McKinnons were said to possess, though he knew enough from the rumours to know that if this girl had those same abilities, it was a wonder they'd ever let her out on her own. There would be time enough for those questions though. First things first.

"What exactly is that you're holding there?"

She held up the rock for him to see. "A void stone. Not even a good one. Those are out of my price range at the moment. It helps leech some of the magic away from the person I'm trying to read. Magic and my ability don't get along very well and it can get erratic if there's too much magical residue. That, and being around too much magic gives me a headache like you wouldn't believe."

Another mutter, this one nearly making her smile as Cam threatened Cara with a headache he wouldn't believe if this didn't get over soon. She opened herself up to him, trying to distance the two energies from each other so that she could concentrate on what was bothering him. It didn't surprise her that this anger was over a pretty girl.

"You'll get to see her again. Don't worry so much." He narrowed his eyes at her. Since he didn't ask her to expand on what she said, she turned her attention back to Cara. He was smiling again. She really wished he wouldn't do that. It was making her twitchy. "What would you like to know, Mr. Dearborn? Is there a girl you're mooning over?"

He drew his attention back to Marlene and shook his head. "I doubt it very much," he told her with a casual air. There was no use in mooning over just one pretty girl when there was a whole world of them anxious for attention. Instead, he lifted the chair's front legs off the ground and made a show of pondering what exactly he might want to know. It would be in bad taste to ask her if she saw herself in his bed tomorrow morning. Besides, he didn't need a fortune teller, or whatever it was the McKinnons did, to know if he was going to be able to bed a bird. He could usually tell that within twenty minutes of meeting them. Unable to come up with something as personal as she'd given Cam, he simply shrugged. Of course, she could have read the morning paper to know that Cam was falling all over himself over Rebecca Fenwick. It had been spelled out in black and white with a vivid, steamy picture to accompany the words.

"How about you tell me how you fooled your family into letting you leave that compound of theirs instead? Aren't all of the McKinnon elders locked up tight?"  
"I got sick when I was sixteen, about the time of the quickening. It was a Muggle disease, one of the few that magic can't do anything about, so my parents took me to one of the few Muggle clinics that are still around on the islands. Since it seemed clear that I wasn't going to present any of the abilities, the clan left me alone. By the time I was back near enough magic to give me trouble, I had learned how to handle it. Simple enough."

Several faint images crept past her defenses but they were all in the past. She could tell from the crispness of the images that they had already happened and were static in the time stream.

"I slipped into the miasma of humanity that is London, changed my name and proved that I could live outside the clan walls. As long as I keep my head down and stay out of trouble, my parents are willing to let me stay here." She blushed. "Not that I'm a child who needs to be told what to do or where to live. It's just that the clan is... all-consuming. These days even the people who aren't elders are kept within the walls."

Caradoc nodded. That made sense, he supposed. He didn't know what it must be like to have such a stifling family. It said something of her own strength of character that she was able to find a way to defy those boundaries and live life on her own terms.

"You're an interesting person, Marlene Matthews," he said, lowering the chair back to its intended position. He ignored the impatient sounds coming from his partner. "Resourceful, too, it seems. What would make you risk the exposure then by helping Gideon and two perfect strangers the man has sent to you?"

"There isn't supposed to be any exposure. Gideon comes by every couple of weeks and I give him a reading. He normally asks for something a little less obscure than Phoenician book binding but... oh." She'd forgotten all about the idiotic, or so she'd thought at the time, code that Gideon had come up with on one of their first meetings. "I'm supposed to look in your near future and see if you... survive. Having a busy week, are you?"

For a moment, the smile on Cara’s lips faltered but after sharing a look with his partner, the smirk had settled back into place. Attempts on their lives wasn’t exactly commonplace, but it wasn’t actually all that unusual, either. After all, their entire purpose in life these days was to take down the establishment, by any means necessary. And those means usually entailed a great deal of violence. Why Gideon would suddenly be so concerned with their life expectancy was more than a little intriguing.

“You could say that.” He leaned forward, meeting the woman's eyes. “I thought there were rules to this ability of yours?”

"Rules, yes. I can't tell you if I see your demise. That doesn't mean I can't see it. Let's just hope I don't have to deal with that so early in our friendship." She put the void stone down on the table and rested her hand on it. With Gideon, she had to leave it in her pocket completely but she didn't think that was going to be an issue in this room where she could almost taste the magical residue like grains of salt on her tongue.

Concentrating on the hand before her, taking in the fine lines and texture of the skin, Marlene lifted it up just enough that there was room for air to pass between the stone and her hand. The edges of the images that she could see were blurred now, an indication that she was seeing the future.

"Dinner," she murmured. "Tonight. Peas and carrots. My favorite. I've seen this woman before, in Gideon's visions. He says her name is Adi. She's relieved but worried." Marlene looked over at Cam and smiled. "Not about you or she'd make a bigger noise. I've seen her yelling at you before. Last time I saw Gideon, as a matter of fact. No, not you. Someone who looks like you but with less hair. A brother? She got very mad at him a couple of weeks ago. Not a woman I'd want to cross."

"Nor did he," Cam murmured, the fine hairs on his arm standing upright. The only reason he'd known about the argument was because he'd walked in on the middle of it. His brother and sister-in-law always argued in private so that no one would ever know they'd had a disagreement. Loah had wanted to start being more active out in the field and Adi hadn't liked that idea at all. If she had seen that, it wasn't anything Gideon had told her about.

The images flickered and changed and suddenly there was rubble all around, piled up in heaps as if a giant had gotten angry and beat his way inside a building. There were scorch marks. Fire. A bomb. It was hard to pinpoint on the image as it kept wavering and swaying. Just like when she tried to see something in her own time line.

She stopped breathing. Caradoc was lying under a pile of leather. No, not leather. Not just leather. Books. Books. Quivering lines and books.

Without thinking the motion through, she pulled her hand completely away from the void stone so she could zero in on the vision. As the magic was able to filter through her consciousness, the lines tightened up but still the picture wavered and then evaporated. She saw the street outside the ORC. Two men. One turned to the other and whispered, "The McKinnon is supposed to work here. The information was sketchy but I trust the source."

With a cry, she picked the void stone up again and pushed away from the table. "You need to get out of here. You need to leave. I need to-" and suddenly she was pushing against arms who were trying to hold onto her. They were pushing at her, trying to push her to the ground. No, she realized. They weren't pushing her. Cam was trying to keep her from falling. It was hard not to struggle as she touched skin and felt the searing pain of so many small memories pushing at her.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. Please, you need to leave. They've found me. They're going to blow this building up."

Caradoc had leapt to his feet as Marlene began panicking and had lunged forward when Cam had caught the woman. He reached out and grabbed her arms. She was shaking and he nodded to Cam who released her. He didn’t know why he trusted what she said as truth, but his instincts, which had kept him alive thus far were screaming at him that this would indeed happen however it was that Marlene had seen it.

“Marlene. You have to calm down.” He shook her slightly until she focused on him. “We have to know what you do in order to get us all out of here safely. Tell us what you saw.” His mind was already working ahead, recalling the layout of the building they had seen, but as they’d only been allowed in the waiting area, and then led directly here, he had no idea where the nearest exit that wasn’t the front door might be. Nor did he know how many people were situated in this building at the time. Or the surrounding ones for that matter…

"They're out on the street. Two men." She was panting as she tried to remember the vision. It was hard to pin it down, considering it had been about her. A direct vision. That wasn't good. Not good, at all. How had she even seen it? The last time she'd seen anything about herself was when she'd made the mistake of walking near Gringotts. Too much magic. It had overwhelmed her and she'd had nightmares full of shadows for weeks.

Now that she knew the magic was there, she was shaking with an effort to keep it away from her. She couldn't stop thinking about it. It was everywhere, trying to force its way in.

"They mentioned the... McKinnon. They know I'm here. They shouldn't know. I shouldn't have seen that. I shouldn't know." She tried to concentrate on Cara's face. "You were lying in the rubble. Books were all over. Piles of stone. It was quiet. Dreadfully quiet. And explosion of magic."

The idea terrified her. If magic could blow this building down to nothing but boulders, what would it do to her if she was in the area? It would drive her crazy. Literally force every memory and thought of the people around her directly into her mind all at once. She would explode from the sheer numbers of visions.

"Leave," she whispered, her throat dry. "You need to leave. I need to get the others out of here."

Caradoc glanced at Cam and the older man nodded and opened the door. “We’re not leaving without you, Marlene.” He hadn’t let go of her arms and now that she’d shared her vision, he had no intention of doing so even if it meant she was assaulted with visions. He followed the path he knew Cam was taking as the older man moved quickly to scout what he could. “How many people are in this building? Where is the next nearest exit?” he asked as they passed the original door they’d come from. “Can we Apparate from inside?”

"Back entrance. Down that hall. Desks to the right. Door to the left. Need to be outside." She pointed to a thin line running along the wall up near the ceiling. "The alarm needs to be... needs to be... tap it with your wand." She was shaking and nauseous from the increasingly fierce headache and the exertion of staying upright. It was hard to think of anything else she needed to be worried about. Other than the books all being destroyed. All because of her. How did they find her?

She didn't realize she'd spoken out loud until she heard Cam say, "Because no plan is ever completely foul-proof and no hiding place is without a way in."

Caradoc growled at his partner. Without releasing her, he dropped his wand from its holster into his hand and tapped the line on the wall that Marlene had pointed to. He grit his teeth against the sound that began emitting from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

With some effort, as she seemed to have become a puddle of non-working bones, Caradoc dragged Marlene towards the exit she had indicated. They moved into the hallway and he saw a group of people huddling together. As they saw the big man that was Camillo Figge coming at them, they scattered. Thankfully, they moved in the direction Caradoc wanted them to go. Out. It would have been frustrating to have to wrangle them out as well as trying to get a shaking Marlene out as well.

The building gave a great rumble and he tightened his hold on Marlene in order to pick up his gait. “Pick it up, girl. I’m in no mood to roll in the rubble today.” They neared the door and he shifted her so that he could have his more dominant arm free. “Are there wards that keep us from Apparating straight away?”

"Just go," she whispered, trying desperately to hold herself together. The only thing that kept her from screaming in pain was the fact that letting go like that would send her over the edge and she wasn't ready to go there yet.

"Take her to Loah. I`ll see what i can see in the front. With any luck they'll still be there. I`ll let you know if I go anywhere. Otherwise, meet up with me across the street. That old building with the cats stenciled in the windows." With that, Cam turned and ran down the alley, scattering people who were milling about. There was no time to  
herd them away from the building but Cam could only hope that it was meant to collapse in on itself. It was much easier to control that sort of explosion.

Caradoc snarled his frustration. With a quick, harmless spell, he sent the employees of the ORC scattering further away from the alley. With Marlene becoming heavier in his arms, he didn’t have time to save them all. “Away from the building you idiots,” he hissed. He loosened his grip on Marlene for an instant and was rewarded with her body sinking nearly to the ground. With little regard for her comfort, Caradoc lifted her into his arms.

He kicked and shoved at the people who were now scrambling to obey his request. He could tell the moment they were free of the wards as the first crack of Disapparation occurred. The building gave a tremendous groan and the last person turned and looked at Caradoc with fear written across his face. “GO!” he demanded. _Damn bookworms_ , he thought bitterly. He didn’t see if the man disappeared before the magic scorched the air and the building exploded, shards flying at him from all directions. Caradoc just managed to turn from the chaos, but he felt the cinder block hit his arm and he tried to shield Marlene in his arms as he made it past the wards himself.

It wasn’t until he landed in the Beach House’s safe room that Caradoc registered the blood dripping from his arm. “Merlin’s arse, I hope that’s mine,” he murmured. “LOAH!” he bellowed, walking as quickly as his long stride could carry him toward the infirmary.

“I think she’s in shock or something, Doc. She was like this before the excitement even started.” Caradoc laid Marlene gently on the table and then inspected his arm. “I think that blood is mine,” he said as he looked at the slight gash. “But I don’t know if she took any hits. I didn’t stop to check. Just got her out.” He bent over Marlene’s face and leaned down near her ear. “You’ve seen him, but his name is Loah. He’ll help if you let him. I have to go back.”

Turning back to Loah, he added, “Names Marlene Matthews. Gid will have more details.” With that, Caradoc left the room and returned to the building Cam had indicated to him. He stared across the way at the site where the ORC had stood just five minutes prior.

“This was not how I saw this afternoon ending,” he said dryly. “Did you find anything?”

"You seeing the future now, too?" Cam asked dryly from his position overlooking the street. He pointed in the general direction of where he thought the men had stood. "Every indication was that the spell came from there. Balls of brass, these men of Black's. They didn't even bother to hide themselves, not that there's anything that would hide them from the general mass of people walking past. Don't know if anyone will remember seeing them, of course. They didn't even have to do a memory wipe. Just show up, all undescriptive-like, do what they need to do and leave. Why can't we be more nondescriptive?"

Cara gave a short snort of laughter. He doubted that Cam had ever been one to blend in, even on his home island. And Hades knew that Caradoc had never been one to be nondescript. He liked to stand out. It opened a lot of doors that might otherwise have remained locked. They used appearance charms when it was absolutely necessary, but as the anonymity had been lost long before Cam or Cara had joined this fight, there wasn't a whole lot of reasons not to stand out. "Because it's boring, mate. Besides, if you were unremarkable, Rebecca Fenwick would have looked right through you." He clapped Cam on the shoulder and then moved so he could see up the street as well. There was nothing of use to see. People were gathered in small groups as far as they could get while still being able point and whisper about the building that was once the ORC of London.

"Too damn bad they ran like the worms they are. I'd love to have gotten my hands on one or both of them. Work of some of the aggression nearly being blown to tiny Cara-bits twice in one week brings on."

He turned back to Cam. His shoulder was starting to throb now that the excitement was wearing down. "If we're done here, I'd think I had better toddle back and let Loah take a look at this before Quinn lays into me again for letting it get infected."

"Go on. I'll just watch the clean up for awhile. Just to make sure they do it right." Cam turned to look at Cara, taking in the bloodied sleeve. "Go get bandaged up. I'll be there later. Before dinner." He turned back to the view, distracted by his thoughts and not on the Ministry workers scurrying about as if they were doing any good. "I wouldn't want to miss carrots and peas, after all."

Caradoc looked back out at the people who had arrived and shook his head. "Thanks, man." He walked back to the hallway and then disappeared, arriving back at the Beach House. With purposeful strides, he moved to the Infirmary. Marlene was lying on the nearest table. Loah looked up, a deep frown creasing his brow as he took in the bloodied clothing. Cara followed his gaze as he stopped beside Marlene.

"It's nothing, Doc," he said, leaning over Marlene. Even though he was clearly in her line of sight, the woman's eyes did not travel to his. That didn't seem good. Perhaps she'd been hit with something after all. It would have been physical as Cara was certain he hadn't felt any spells near him other than the one that brought the building down upon itself. "Is she all right?"

"She will be. Her circuits are fried at the moment but I don't think it will be permanent." Loah looked up from the paperwork he was working on. There was always paperwork to be done around here. It was the bane of his existence but it was always good to be as current on what had happened so he could improve on it. Now he rubbed at his eyes with his fingers, trying to wipe away the tired. "Gideon was just in to give me a rundown on her physiology. From the sounds of it, I'm glad you got her out when you did. Much longer around that much magic and she might have been irreparably damaged."

At the frown that crossed Cara's face, he decided that was enough of the medical talk. "Adi's making roast tonight. You sticking around?"

"Yes. I wouldn't miss it." Besides, he wanted to be around when Marlene came out of whatever trance she was in. "Cam will be by as well," Cara said absently, still peering at Marlene. "She wasn't hurt then? I mean, well- other than this of course. There was nothing physical?" He reached up to run his hand through his hair and grimaced at the pain that radiated from his shoulder. "Hey, can you fix this before Quinn gets back from the match? She'll mount my head on the wall if I get another infection."

Loah laughed. "Couldn't have that, could we? Bad enough I'm patching you up when the bad guys get you then having to patch up your injuries from Quinn`s moods."

The job was done by the time Cam came through the door. He looked weary and Loah wondered if he'd been sleeping. Smetimes, in the midst of stress, Cam _forgot_ to sleep, as if he was afraid to drift off right when someone needed him. It had been bad when he'd first come here but had settled down once he and Cara had teamed up. "Let me check you over for any scratches," he said as if the boys were still children and were playing too rough in the garden.

"Leave it," Cam mumbled, staring at Marlene with a touch more fear than Cara was. "She alright?"

"Loah says she will be," Cara said as he rotated his shoulder in a wide arc. He offered Loah a smile in appreciation. "Said something about frying her - I don't know. I don't understand how these McKinnons work. I guess magic's bad. No touching, no magic. It's all very odd." He shrugged and moved back to the woman's bed. She still wasn't focusing on him which made him frown.

"Marlene," he whispered. He almost reached out to smooth some of her hair back off her face but pulled his hand away as he remembered she didn't care to be touched. "How long until she's coherent, Doc? Does she know where she is? That we're here?"

"Until I get some better readings from her, she's going to stay in this state. There's a barrier around her that is keeping magic from touching her but I don't know what could be seeping through. That being said, I'd like to run some more tests and having you two in the room won't be doing her any favors. Not if what Gideon has told me is true and I have a sneaking suspicion, from the little that I've seen, that it is, I don't want any visitors while I take down the ward. Go see if you can help Adi with dinner. I'll let you know when I'm done." He went over to push at his brother, checking for injuries as he followed them out of the room. "Go. And don't worry. I'm the best, remember?"


	5. Give It Some Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebecca works through her feelings while Quinn discovers that strange things can and do happen.

It wasn’t exactly the sort of match Rebecca truly enjoyed, but she had gotten a good workout from it and she and her teammates had been in top form. The match had even lasted longer than she had anticipated the Wanderers would have been capable of. The team from Wigtown wasn’t the worst, but they certainly weren’t the opponents that Falmouth or Puddlemore were. Still, they were fun to fly against. It was always interesting to see what types of moves the team would try and their Beaters were two nasty blokes whose Bludgers were hit with great force and nasty intent.

The Wigtown Chasers, however, were not nearly as good as the Chasers for the Harpies and it had been easy enough to disrupt the Wanderers attempt at the Porskoff Ploy by taking out the lower Chaser and allowing Miranda to swoop in and steal the Quaffle for an easy score. The attempt at the Hawkshead might have been successful if the Chaser in the right flank of the formation hadn’t been so spooked by the Backbeat Susanne sent at the formation’s leader that he dropped the Quaffle right into the waiting hands of Dosha. In fact, the only maneuver the team could easily pull off was their signature Parkin's Pincer, and that move was ineffective against the seasoned Chasers of the Harpies.

The only truly close call was when the Wanderers Seeker nearly caught the Snitch after only nine Harpies' scores. Rebecca and Susanne had taken great joy in coming together to use the Dopplebeater Defence on him. The Bludger had nearly unseated the condescending ponce, successfully distracting him from closing his fingers around the little gold nuisance which would have ended the game in an unfavorable manner for the women. Ninety points would not be enough to put them back in the lead for the Cup.

After that, Miranda, Gwen, and Dosha had stepped up their own efforts, taking pleasure in showing their opponents how to successfully perform the different maneuvers and by the time poor Balty had to be taken a Bludger to the chest from his own team’s attempt at the Backbeat, Darrin’s catch of the Snitch had been rendered ineffective for a win and the Harpies score for the match had moved them back into first place in the chase for the cup.

When the team had retreated to the locker room, it had been decided that a celebration was in order, though the women agreed that they would take their party home to Holyhead. After the majority of the team had left and Rebecca had showered, wrapped herself in a towel, and braided her hair, she laid down on a bench, watching Susanne as the woman went through her after game rituals. She would wait until Susanne was nearly ready before she put her clothes on and since the jumper she had brought to wear was a light cream colour, she wouldn’t put her makeup on until then either.

It would be a perfect opportunity to contact Camillo and see if he was available to celebrate with them tonight, but thoughts of how she was supposed to use that bloody card only made her frown so she pushed them away for the time being.

“Maybe that bloke who owns the pub will buy all your drinks tonight,” she said as she drew lazy circles in the air for no other reason than she was bored.

"You know I hate that kind of pressure. No publican is ever good looking enough to make up for the fact that all his or her money is all put back into the shop. They're always looking for free press so I end up giving more than I'm getting." Rebecca struggled to get the curls to lay just perfectly around her face. It didn't help that her left arm was on fire from the hit she'd received but she hated healing directly after a match. There would be time enough for that tomorrow. "Why don't you just come with me? We can contact him from there."

Rebecca stopped moving her hands and looked back to her best friend. "What makes you think I'm not coming with you?" she asked as she pulled herself up and stood from the bench. She went to Susanne and slipped her arms around the other woman's shoulders, her chin coming to rest on Susanne's right shoulder. "Your hair looks wonderful, Suze." She met the other woman's eyes in the mirror, her lips curving to a soft smile at the annoyance staring back at her. Reaching up, she tugged at the curl Susanne had just been worrying with. "There," she added as she gently set the lock against the soft skin of Susanne's cheek. "Now, don't breathe or it might move again."

"So you're going to attempt a pub again with Twig? Is that smart? We have proof now of what he'd capable of when he gets started." She indicated the newspaper that had been delivered this morning and was now folded so only the back page was shown. From the pictures of the fight, it had looked like a good time. "I doubt the man knows what a nice, normal date looks like."

Rebecca paled for a moment but then pulled her smile back into place. Susanne knew her almost better than she knew herself sometimes. "Assumption number two, lovey. Who said I was going to ask _Camillo_ to join us? Besides, normal is boring. We've not done normal since, well not since I met you that's for sure."

She tightened her grip on the other woman just enough that she knew she was sending a shot of pain through Susanne's arm and then she pulled away, dropping a kiss on her friend's left shoulder. "Finish making yourself glamorous and I'll go get dressed."

Turning from the mirror, Susanne watched her friend walk across the room. She'd been pushing Rebecca to talk about Camillo Figge all morning long, since the paper had shown up, even though it went against all her instincts to draw her friend's attention away from the match. There was something going on behind those eyes that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Precious, why wouldn't you contact Twig? You've been staring holes into that card. What's going on that you're not telling me?"

Rebecca sighed. She'd been avoiding talking about Camillo with Susanne because she couldn't find the words to match the way her stomach flipped when he managed to invade her thoughts. He made her feel like a school girl and she'd never felt much of that nonsense when she was a school girl. Seeing him tossing people aside as if they were made of air had caused the completely wrong reaction in her. She should have been annoyed as she normally was when men flexed their muscles. She should have even been a little bit, if not allot, frightened by the power that radiated even from the paper. Yet, all she could think about was how magnificent he had looked and how easily he could protect her. About the way his lips had seared her skin and about the way he had set her dreams on fire last night.

All of this was too distracting and so she had focused instead on the match, managing to change the topic each time Susanne had brought him up. Not successfully, she thought as she realized that it was likely only the match that had kept Susanne from pushing her with any real commitment. She stared down into the bag for a moment more and then reached down and pulled the card from her bag, flicking it back to Susanne.

"He said to use this to contact him," Rebecca said, not meeting her friend's eyes. "I don't really know how it works. He said to think of him and hold that card and he'd find me. But what if whoever this Quinn O'Mara shows up instead. I won't have some perfect stranger thinking I'm desperate to see a man I barely know. It's bad enough you do."

After staring at the white card and back up at Rebecca, Susanne shook her head. "Let me get this straight? The man makes you goofy-happy, you toss and turn all night long so that I don't get any sleep, you have to concentrate so hard keeping your attention on the game that you have stress lines on your forehead even now... and you're afraid what people will think? What if this Quinn person does show up? Take him or her by the collar and demand to know where he is."

She started to flick the card back in her roommate's direction before changing her mind. "On second thought, maybe this Quinn is cute. Maybe I'll keep this for myself and you can suffer for the next several days, wondering if Twig is going to find a way to get in touch with you. Knowing Donovan the way I do, he's going to take one look at that paper and tighten the guard around you. In fact, I'm surprised that he hasn't already. This is your one chance until he decides the crazies will stop pestering you. Are you going to take it, damn what anyone else thinks, or am I going to keep this card and see if I can't get a free drink out of it?"

Rebecca narrowed her eyes as the card slid back between Susanne's fingers. She was annoyed by the accuracy of Susanne's statements, as well as by her own foreign feelings. Of course she didn't really care what people thought. She was Rebecca bleeding Fenwick for cripe's sake. But it seemed terribly desperate to contact one stranger in order to facilitate what would ultimately be an intimate meeting with a near second stranger. And desperate wasn't something she was either. Yet, she was almost aching to see the man again.

She muttered an oath before marching over and snatching the damned card from Susanne's fingers. "Go put your damn lips on, you blasted woman before I hex them bloody red for you." With an irritated huff, Rebecca flopped down on the bench and turned the card over in her hands. "You think I'm meant to think of Camillo, _not Twig_ Susanne, or this Quinn person? Oh no matter. I'll think of them both."

Rebecca waited until Susanne shook her head and disappeared around the corner before she glanced down at the card in her hands. She gripped it tightly, thinking that this was all probably a waste of time, but if it meant she could talk to Camillo Figge again, she'd suck up her pride and ask this Quinn O'Mara for assistance. After a minute or so, she tossed the card onto the bench and began looking for her clothes. "And put on some clothes, Suze. The last thing I need is for you to distract the poor thing with that body of yours."

"Why hide what nature has seen fit to grace me with?" she called back from the other room.

Quinn had been feeling an odd pull for the last twenty minutes but when nothing came of it, she tried to enjoy the fish and chips wrapped in brown paper that she'd bought from the street vendor. It wasn't the after-game dinner that she wanted but she'd since given up on the dream that she was going to find the perfect man sitting beside her at a Quidditch game or walking toward her in the park. The perfect man that she was always musing about out loud simply didn't exist. Short, dark-haired and lean were her specification and her boys kept finding her men that met those requirements. Lord but they had found nearly every dark-haired, short man on the island. One was even thinner than she was, if that was possible. Since that wasn't what she really wanted, she smiled her way through the date and found some way of weaseling out of a second one.

When the stronger pull came, she rubbed at her stomach and tossed the half-eaten dinner into the nearest bin. Someone did need her after all. The leather order for Fabian must have gotten ready sooner than the distributor thought it would be. He'd enjoy the early present when she went back to the Beach House tonight.

But she Apparated back to the stadium that she'd just left. That couldn't be right. But the feeling pulled at her until she was standing outside a door. She knocked, wondering what she was going to find on the other side. It was beginning to look like Cam and Cara had set her up. If that proved to be the case, they were going to hear about it.

Rebecca looked over at the door when the knock came, and then back towards where Susanne was finishing up. When the second knock came and Susanne threatened to come get it herself, Rebecca finally pushed off of the bench where she had been obsessively picking at the hem of her denims for five minutes. She unconsciously tugged at the sleeves on her jumper, took a deep breath, and then opened the door.

She wasn't sure what she would find on the other side of the door, but somehow she was still surprised to see the small red-head woman of a slight build standing there. Rebecca gave the girl an appraising look and then stuck her head out the door to look for her security team. Labon was standing at the end of the tunnel. He gave her a bright smile and then turned so that he was once again scanning the open areas. The girl was obviously no threat to Labon which meant she could only be Quinn O'Mara.

Rebecca arched a brow and gave the girl a curious look. "May I help you?"

"Okay, very funny. Ha ha. The joke is on me." Quinn rolled her eyes and tried to peer over Rebecca Fenwick's shoulder, looking for one or both of her partners. "Is this my punishment for snagging the ticket without asking first? Does Cam need me to go fetch him something that he's too lazy to go get himself? Because-" She pulled back and really looked at the other woman's face. There was no smug joking in that expression. And Cam wouldn't be in the changing rooms after a game that he didn't attend.

She pulled back so she wasn't quite so close. "So, I'm going to assume this isn't a joke and you have a white card with my name on it? Because a certain big lout forgot that he'd taken one of mine because all of his got burned up in Geneva?"

For a minute, Rebecca thought the girl standing in front of her might be slightly touched. She followed her gaze and looked around the room as if somebody else might suddenly appear and reveal whatever joke Quinn O'Mara thought was being played.

At the mention of the card, Rebecca flicked her wrist, summoning the object and then held it out for inspection. Her lips twitched slightly as if they wanted to curve into a smile, but when the last words left the woman's mouth, she frowned. "Burned up in Geneva?" Well, that certainly didn't sound sexy or protective. It just sounded downright dangerous. Before the girl could answer, Rebecca asked, "Do you have a wristband too?"

Quinn held up her arm and pulled back the sleeve of her jacket so that her own, much smaller, leather brace was visible. "I can confirm my identity as a member of The Group, if you'd like. Touch the rune and you'll be able to see the moment I was given my wristband. Touch it a second time and you'll see a random moment when I wore it."

Though she didn't need confirmation of the woman's identity as she knew Labon would not have let just anybody near the door, Rebecca reached out and touched the rune. When the scene of a very young looking girl finished playing, she looked up.

"You looked so young."

She wasn't sure why that still surprised her. Benjy and Phill had both joined straight out of Hogwarts, after all.

"I'm sorry. Where are my manners? Please come inside." She moved aside and the held her hand out. "Rebecca Fenwick. I hope I didn't disrupt your day." She offered a smile. "Did you say you were at the game today?"

The only reason she shook the hand that Rebecca held out to her was that the gesture was automatic because her brain was elsewhere. The part of her that had bought ever issue of Quidditch Monthly and Weekly Score for the last five years wanted to jump up and down for joy. She had reached the inner sanctum. At the moment, she was inside a changing room used by Quidditch players. With current Quidditch players still in it.

"I had no where else to be. Don't even worry about it. It's a big part of my job."

"Help me with the clasp, Becks?" A striking blonde walked into the room, holding out a necklace. Quinn's eyes nearly popped out as she realized it was Susanne Wayment. "Is this the infamous Quinn O'Mara?"

"I am, in fact, Quinn O'Mara. Not infamous, that I know of. You are Susanne Wayment."

"Yes, I am. Good observations skills." She turned her head to smirk at Rebecca. "We should bring her with us tonight. A blonde, a brunette and a red head? The place would explode. None of us would need to buy drinks. Is that your natural colour because it's gorgeous."

Quinn self-consciously pulled at a piece of her hair that was currently caught up on top of her head. "It was nearly your colour until this morning. I got tired of the spell. It gives me a headache if I use it for too long."

Rebecca took the necklace, slipped it around Susanne's neck and fastened it before patting the woman's left shoulder. "Be nice," she murmured for Susanne's ears only.

Turning back to the new woman, she contemplated her as thought for a moment about how to approach the reason why she had contacted the woman. "Miss O'Mara?" she began, and then looked at Susanne who gave her a look that clearly said 'get on with it'. "Look, you obviously know I wasn't really in need of your assistance. Well, I do need your help I suppose so if you could just let me know how I might get in contact with Camillo, I'd appreciate it."

The great stinking git was going to owe her something big this time. Now she was playing messenger for him and his bird? Ruined a perfectly nice packet of chips to boot. She was so mad that she could spit.

But she just shrugged her shoulders as if this was something that happened all the time and she was happy to help. "I have to head back now. Tell me when and where and I'll have him meet you. At this point, that's the only way I can think of for you to contact him."

"Oh." Rebecca frowned, thinking of seeing Camillo tonight after an exhilarating game. Yet it felt a bit... well a bit cheap to ask this Quinn to set up a date for her. And meeting up with a man at a pub with the idea of bringing him home was definitely a date. Of course, she had called Quinn to her with every intention of finding a way for the woman to put her in contact with Camillo. But finding a way to communicate with him was different than having Quinn send him to her on some kind if twisted date. That somehow seemed less... cheap than having Quinn set her up on a date.

"You won't be joining us tonight then? If you have to get back?"

Yes. That seemed less like some odd exchange and more like friends meeting up for a night out on the town. She would follow that path as if that had always been the plan.

Quinn looked from one girl to the other and back again. It was times like this that she realized that she wasn't good at reading females. Most males were like open books to her, their feelings pretty singular and open even if they thought they were doing a good job of keeping themselves closed off. She realized that this was because she'd spent most of her life with the male of the species and not because they were actually any easier to understand. Trying to untangle all these different emotions that she couldn't pinpoint while trying to read facial expressions that weren't like any she was familiar with was all giving her a headache.

"How about this? I go home and casually mention that I heard about a gathering while I was at the game. Cam wouldn't normally go for something like that but if he's led to believe that it's rumoured that certain members of the team might be there - not that I know that for sure, mind you, but it's a possibility - well, then, he might show up. I'll get all gussied up and drag Cara along and we'll consider it a night out on the town. I won't mention this meeting, now or in the future. He never has to know that you used the card." She took a deep breath and took one step further down this twisted path that was perilously close to friendship. "But keep it. Like I said, Cam doesn't have any of his own at the moment. It might come in handy if you... need... anything. That sounds weird. I don't mean it to sound weird. It's just that, things happen. I mean, not bad things. Not everything has to be bad. Maybe you need packages picked up from a store. Oh, I don't know. Just... forget it. Forget I said anything."

Rebecca watched the girl as she formulated a plan. Her brows rose as her features twisted with amusement, and by the time Quinn O'Mara had fished speaking, Rebecca had a full smile on her face.

"I don't know about needing packages picked up, but I think it might be nice to chat with you under more courteous circumstances."

She tucked the card into the pocket of her denims and nodded. "I think this sounds like a good idea," she added before explaining to Quinn where they would be celebrating tonight. It still seemed a bit strange to Rebecca but she supposed it was better than risking not seeing the man again because she couldn't overcome her own pride.

She extended her hand again. "It was actually nice to meet you, Quinn O'Mara, and I look forward to getting to know you a bit more this evening." Oddly, despite the awkwardness of this meeting, Rebecca found the words rang true and she was glad Susanne had pushed her to use the card.

For a long moment, Quinn stared at Rebecca's hand as if it was foreign and she couldn't, for the life of her, think of what she should do. This whole day she had felt odd, as if her centre of balance was off. It didn't take someone reading the future to know that things were changing and this girl was right in the middle of it all. But who better for one of her best friends to fall for, though.

She grasped the proffered hand. "And I, you. So, give us half an hour. It takes some of us time to get pretty." With a wave at the blonde who was looking much too smug about all of this, Quinn walked out the door. With a wave at Laben, she Apparated home.

The Beach House was quiet, strangely so, when she arrived. Instead of running around the whole place, searching in vain through room after possible room, she went to the kitchen. If anyone would know where Cam was, it would be Adi. The odds were even good that he was there, trying to pilfer some late-night goodies. But no one was there. So she tried the Infirmary and came up with a gold mine. There were plenty of voices coming from that area as she walked closer.

"I asked because I want to make sure I pick one that's going to work, Marlene. I don't know about these things," Caradoc was saying. He looked up at the figure that appeared in the doorway and smiled a true smile for the first time in hours. Despite everything that had happened this afternoon, his shoulders felt a little lighter. "Ah, she has returned. Tell us, Q. Did you spy Cam's great love? Was she pining away for our fearless warrior?"

A laugh burst from him at the sounds that emanated from his friend's direction. With casual movements, Caradoc put himself closer to table where Marlene was still laying. Cam wouldn't put the civilian in danger by trying to get at Cara around her. "That must have been some match. Or did you hook yourself some fine bloke to escort you for dinner?" he asked. "Don't tell me if it were that bloody Seeker for ."

"Then I suppose I won't be talking about the game much," Quinn replied with a sly smile as she took in all the people in the room before resting back on Cara. "I came back to... tell... you," she started to say as several things fell into place. There was a definite scent in the air of smoke and spent magic. She'd smelled it enough lately to know exactly what it was and why she was smelling it. There was a brownish stain on Cara's shirt and, now that she was studying him closer, she could see the white bandage sticking out from under his sleeve.

Without pausing to find out why he was standing beside the bedside of a pretty girl (because if anyone could pick up a girl at a bombing, it was Cara), Quinn walked up to Cara and slapped his cheek. Not a light slap, either. Her hand stung as she pulled it back. The red spot she created didn't make her feel bad at all as she tried to reign herself in from either more physical violence. Sometimes it was easier to hit Cara than it was to try to just ignore the feelings he created in her.

"What blew up this time? You told me you weren't going to get hurt. What did you do? What happened?" She lifted the sleeve to see how big the bandage was. It wasn't large but she still didn't like the amount of dried blood on his shirt. She tried to lift his shirt but he wasn't letting her. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Caradoc's smile tightened at Quinn's sly response. Though he was nearly sure she was having him on, it still sent a flash of irritation through him to think of that great lout ogling her or speaking to her in that silky voice of his or worse, touching her with those disgusting meat paws he probably used on every Quidditch groupie alive. His eyes were just narrowing for a response when he registered the change in Quinn's demeanor. She was taking in the room. And him. Her eyes fell on his arm.

He opened his mouth to tell her it was nothing but before words came out, she was in front of him and his face was stinging like he'd been hit with a jinx. Reflexively, his hand moved to his cheek and he stared opened-mouthed at her for a breath.

"What the fuck, Quinn?" he asked, as she began to paw at his shirt. "Stop," he tried to add but she wasn't hearing him. When she refused to stop manhandling him in front of the entire room, he grabbed her wrists and pulled them up in front of him. "I'm not hurt, Quinn." He pulled her in close, her ear landing next to his mouth. "Stop this. I'm fine." When she stopped struggling, he pushed her back but did not release her arms. He stared down at her, his eyes dark with anger and confusion.

"What the bloody hell was that about? We're obviously fine or we'd not be standing her having this ridiculous conversation." In front of Marlene, no less. "I got to Loah before infection set in this time." Damn. What more did she want from him?

"Three times you've almost blown up. Three times in three weeks. Twice just this week." Quinn tried to pull away but he had a strong hold on her arms. She had an urge to run from the room so she could vent these emotions somewhere other than here, in front of everyone. Instead of moving forward, she should have turned around and left the room like the sane part of her brain had begged her. With each deep breath, she felt herself calming down until she could at last meet his eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have slapped you. That was rude. And in front of company. Would this be Marlene then?"

His lips twitched as he watched her come back to herself. "I know," he whispered, resisting the urge to reassure with an embrace. He released her when she turned and looked at Marlene. "Yes. Quinn O'Mara this is Marlene Matthews. It's a good thing Gideon sent us after all," Caradoc added, glancing up at the man in question. "As Black thought today would be a good day to relieve us of the ORC. Marlene was able to let us know before-" He stopped himself from finishing that sentence. The last thing he wanted was to set Quinn off again. "And for her troubles, she gets to stay here for awhile. Lucky girl," he said wryly, smiling softly at the girl still trying to gather her strength to her once more.

"Nice to meet you," Marlene said quietly, her throat still sore from the past few hours. Being locked in a silent scream was harder on her body than if she'd actually been making noise. She wasn't sure what exactly had snapped her out of the near catatonic state but she was going to let Loah take the credit and be grateful. Even though she kept flinching every time someone walked in the room or got close enough that they might touch her, she couldn't feel their time lines pressing against her. It was all very odd.

"As places to stay go, you could do worse. Three meals a day and a view of the ocean." Quinn looked around the room again, meeting Cam's gaze before focusing on Gideon. "So, Gid, are these two on lock down or can I take them for the rest of the evening?"

"Since today's event didn't have anything to do with us in general or them specifically, I don't see any reason to keep either of them here. It might be better if we all left Marlene to settle in without all this general pandemonium. We'll continue this conversation in the morning since there's probably nothing we can do about getting you a new stone tonight."

Quinn was intrigued. She hadn't been a good location job in forever. Lately, her job had turned into more of the _sit and wait_ variety that always drove her slightly batty. No wonder it had been so easy to yell at Cara instead of taking it in stride. "What kind of stone are you looking for and why have you asked this lot for help finding it? They're bollocks when it comes to locating anything of importance. That's why they have me."

"A void stone. Mine was destroyed."

"Excellent. Have a few contacts I could talk to tomorrow. I'll have one to you before lunch. Will that be soon enough?" She waited for the pale girl to nod her head before moving away from Cara. "Right. So, as I was saying when I first came in, I heard about a party tonight and thought you might like to join me. First rule of tonight's adventure will be that both of you need to shower because you smell like burnt hair."

Cam grunted as he got to his feet, sounding like an old man. He tried to cover over it with a cough but he wasn't fooling anyone. "What kind of party? I don't think I'm up for another one of those flashing lights and silly coloured drinks places you had us try last time."

"Just... you know... some place dark that serves ale. Our usual haunt. There was talk that the team might be there." She smiled as he was out the door by the time the word _might_ came out of her mouth. She turned to look over her shoulder at Cara. "Please tell me you're coming because I don't look forward to watching Cam make a fool of himself over a girl all by myself."

Caradoc's mood lifted immensely. Not only would a few rounds do him some good, the prospect of seeing Cam and Rebecca live and in person brought an insane amount of joy to him. A good laugh was exactly what he needed after today's events. He made an amused sound and nodded. "I'd not miss it for anything," he told her, tapping her nose as he followed Cam out the door.

"Oh, Quinn?" Gideon called out as Quinn got to the door to follow both her teammates. "Thought you should know we have guests. Members of the Pack are here to evaluate our operation. They'll be staying for a few days. Just wanted to warn you because I have them up on your floor."

She glared at him. She'd made him promise years ago that she would get that floor to herself unless they were desperate for space and she knew for a fact that there was plenty of room on the second floor. "And what was wrong with the other empty rooms? You promised, Gid."

"The decision was taken out of my hands. I doubt they'll bother you. They aren't here for the party, after all. This is work for them. Nothing more."

Right, Quinn thought as she took the stairs two at a time up to her room. Weren't they all just here for work? And how was that working out for them? She could only sigh and hope she wouldn't have to be here for the evaluation because the last time she'd had dealings with the Pack, she'd nearly come to blows with the woman who'd tried telling them all the things they were doing _wrong_ and how they could improve. Improve, her ass. Their kill ratio was still higher than anything the Pack could hope to achieve in this lifetime. Let them come evaluate. Maybe she'd spend a lot of time shopping tomorrow. That thought made her smile. Party tonight and shopping tomorrow. What more could a girl want?


	6. Evening Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night out on the town. (This chapter gets rather NC-17 toward the end. Be sure to come back for the last 6 paragraphs for the segue to the next chapter if you'd prefer not to read it.)

Inviting the rest of the team had been Beck's idea but Susanne couldn't fault her. It would make her story more plausible if Quinn came through with her promise. Not that she didn't think the girl would try but she couldn't help but wonder if last night had been a fling for Camillo Figge. If that proved to be the case, she was going to have to hex the man beyond what any person should be able to be hexed because Rebecca couldn't keep her eyes off the front door, her eyes straying over as if she was a magnet longing for true north.

There were problems with this plan. The team was subdued after the ordeal of last night and the game today so most of them were sitting around with a pint or two, talking. She didn't mind talking but this was supposed to be a party. "We should at least turn on some music," she mentioned again to Becks but she was clearly not listening.

That settled it. If Camillo and friends walked in now, they would think they were at a Ladies Aid tea party. "Come on, girls," she hollered. "We need to _dance_ or they can't consider this a party. Didn't we win? Aren't we headed toward a championship season? Get off your arses and DANCE!"

Several of the girls attempted a half-hearted yell but it was still weak. Not at all what the Harpies were able to achieve when they put their minds to it. "Round of whiskey on me, girls." There was the rousing cheer she'd been looking for, the other patrons getting into the swing of things as everyone surged to the bar. Susanne got to her feet and reached over to take Rebecca's hand. "He's going to be expecting to see that sweaty, dancing girl he saw last night. Don't make him think he picked the wrong girl. You've got more competition tonight seeing as there aren't many other blokes here."

Rebecca was being ridiculous, she knew that, but now that the game was over and its high had subsided, all that was left was thinking about how stupid it had been to summon Quinn O'Mara and ask for a date. It was too late to regret the decision now, though. The offer was out there. Sweet Helga's breath. She had never been so unnerved by a man that she acted oddly before. Of course, none of the men in her life had ever been built like Camillo Figge. None of them had ever elicited such a primal response from her before. And most certainly, none of them had ever caused her world to spin on its axis with a single kiss before.

She rolled her eyes. This would end now. Susanne was right, there was much to celebrate. She accepted the outstretched hand and let the woman pull her to her feet, wrapping Susanne's arm around her as they headed to the bar. Her teammates seemed much more at ease now that a free round had been tossed out there and Rebecca smiled as she looked at each of them. They were a beautiful lot, full of determination and easy laughs. Envy had reared its ugly head on more than one occasion, but Rebecca had never fallen into that pit with her teammates. Her interest in men had never run deeply enough for her to consider competing with another woman. Though, the thought of Camillo dancing with one of her girls the way he had danced with her stirred something in her stomach that she didn't want to address. Pushing the sensation away, she grabbed a glass and raised it in Susanne's direction. They knocked the glasses together before taking the first pull. "I am not worry about keeping the man's attention, Suze," Rebecca said.

When they'd finished the first round, she dragged her best friend to the very center of the floor, twirled her hair into a knot on top of her head and then laughed as they began keeping time with the music. This was much better. "You're a godsend, Susanne," she said, letting the woman twirl her under her arm.

"That I am, Precious. That I am." She let the music sweep her away so that there was nothing else but the beat and the heat of the bodies around her. It wasn't until she felt a change in the attitudes around her that she bothered to look up. As she did, she caught the eye of a very good looking young man who had just walked in with... but of course Camillo would have good looking friends. Instead of indicating the new arrivals, Susanne closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the music again. She only had a few more minutes with Becks to herself and she wanted to enjoy every last one.

Quinn watched as Cam shook out his hands for the twentieth time since they'd met back up at the Beach House, all polished and refined in their good clothes. Of course, with this lot, that meant something clean although she did have to admire Cara's new shirt and the way it showed off his arms. He was always a handsome devil when he tried.

"Is there something wrong with your hands?" she finally asked him, concerned that maybe something had happened this morning to his back so that he couldn't feel his fingers. "Should I be concerned about this new tic of yours?"

"Nervous," he muttered, not looking at her but at the door they were about to enter. "Leave me be."

"Fine. You sit out here and be nervous. I've come to have a good time." But as she opened the door and led the way through, even Quinn had to admit that she wasn't prepared for the mass of women knotted on the dance floor. She wasn't much for clubs and only ever came to the pub to drink. This scene was foreign to her although she put a smile on her face as she looked over her shoulder. "Looks like fun."

Before she could suggest they find a table and get settled first, Cam pushed past her. It appeared that he'd found his reason for coming out this evening and all the nervousness he might have been feeling had evaporated or he'd pushed it down deep because the man was making a beeline for Rebecca Fenwick.

"Let the games begin," she murmured to Cara as he came up beside her. They watched in silence as Cam walked through the dancers as if they were blades of grass that bent with the wind that he created with his movements. He didn't even hesitate to see if she was going to notice him, just stepped up behind her and placed his hands at her waist as if he'd stepped off the floor for a moment. Quinn wanted to cringe for him but couldn't take her eyes off the spectacle that his presence was causing.

Cam's focus narrowed on Rebecca's hair and he couldn't see anything else around the room as he walked very deliberately toward her. The last twenty-four hours felt like they had never happened as he tried to see far away he could catch her scent, just to see if it was as intoxicating as he remembered. _Easy, boy_ , his brain yelled but he wasn't taking any notes from that part of his body when others were pushing him forward. He wanted to be touching her skin. Needed to thread his fingers through her hair again.

"Can I have the next dance?" he asked as he bent low, his mouth right next to her ear. Being this close to her again felt so right but he reminded himself that he couldn't crowd her. He was the stranger here, after all. This was a party for her and the rest of the team. If she didn't want him here, so be it. He'd enjoy watching her from the sidelines until she could make time for him.

The change in the atmosphere was more than a little noticeable, but before she could even think of turning to see why her fellow girls were suddenly twittering, two strong hands were on her body. Without seeing him, she knew it was Camillo. The feeling brought a smile to her lips. Rebecca inhaled sharply when his mouth appeared next to her ear and his breath sent shivers down her spine. "That depends," she whispered, turning her head slightly so that their lips were inches apart. Her eyes were bright as she looked into his. "Are you planning on abandoning me for a pub brawl tonight?"

"Not again. No." He traced his eyes over her face, testing his memory to see if he remembered everything just as it was. Her eyes were a little wider than he remembered but just as blue. Her lips were just as lush but he wouldn't know that for sure until he kissed her again. Instead of giving in to that temptation just yet, he straightened and pulled her back against him for a moment before releasing his hold on her hips and taking hold of one of hers. There was no room for a spin but he did his best so that they were facing each other.

He grinned at the frowning blonde who had been dancing with her only moments before. "Good evening, Susanne. Mind if I take this one off your hands for a bit?"

"I'll curse you with two left feet if you take away my dance partner like that again but I'll let it ride tonight since I'm feeling in a generous mood. Mind if I go introduce myself to your friends? No? Good." She moved away, muttering something under her breath that had him wondering if he'd heard right.

"Did she just call me Marshmallow?"

Rebecca couldn't help the laugh that escaped as Susanne stalked off toward Quinn and the bloke whose eyes had just travelled from she and Camillo to the striking blonde walking toward them. "Yes," she said and then slid her hand around to the back of his neck. "You made quite a picture in this morning's paper."

"Wasn't looking at myself. I only saw you. Of course, if I'd known the bloke had taken that particular picture, I might not have tipped him quite so well." When she shot him a questioning look, he smiled and shrugged. "Due to the line of work I find myself in from time to time, it's always best to make sure that my best side is portrayed in the papers. I don't make a habit of having a photographer at every brawl, though. Nor do I find myself in those kinds of situations when I go out looking for a quiet corner and a clean glass," he felt he had to add, just in case she might get the impression that he did that sort of thing all the time.

Heat shot through her body once more. Whether it was from a reminder that he was just a bit dangerous or from the way his body was moving against hers, Rebecca couldn't have said. She pressed closer. "And exactly what are you looking for tonight?" she whispered, letting her eyes travel over his mouth and then up to his eyes.

He was a goner. There was no way he was walking out of this place alone and the person he ended up with wasn't going to be either of the people he had walked in with. It took him a moment to answer because he got lost in her eyes and had to pull himself out of the trance they caused. "You," he answered huskily. "If you'll have me."

It wasn't that Cara had never seen Cam chat up a pretty bird before, it was that he had never seen the man dance. Not once in the nearly ten years he'd known the man. It was oddly fascinating and Cara found he couldn't drag his eyes away from the scene. Even when he could sense a presence coming towards them. It wasn't until Quinn nudged him in the ribs that Cara's gaze shifted.

 _Bloody hell_ , he thought as his eyes travelled over the impossibly beautiful features of Susanne Wayment. He blew out a breath as her long legs stretched out before her, each step teasing a greater peek at what lay beneath the short fabric of her yellow dress. Her hair was gathered up on her head, exposing the perfect lines of her neck. She was stunning, even surrounded by the harsh lights and the smoky haze of the pub.

He met her eyes and when she stopped in front of them, his lips fell into a half smirk. "Miss Wayment." Merlin, she was even more beautiful in person than any of the rags had ever shown. "I do hope you'll allow me to buy you a drink tonight."

"If you keep calling me Miss Wayment, I'll make you buy two. My name is Susanne. You can use it as freely as you'd like." Susanne had to fight the urge to cross her hands over her chest but she knew better than to do that kind of damage to the lines of her dress. She was still feeling a little raw from the roller coaster emotions from yesterday and earlier today and the fire in this man's eyes made her want things she didn't think she should have under the kind of turmoil she was still dealing with. She wasn't... nice when she was feeling like this. "You two came in with the man who's currently draped over my best friend as if he feels she needs a coat even in the heat of this place."

Quinn tried to bite back a grin. "I'm Quinn and this is Cara." She saw the gleam of irritation flash in Susanne's eyes. Interesting. Once again, she'd mentioned Cara's name when he wasn't around and he'd been mistaken for a girl. The fact that she was being held accountable for a simple mistake made her a little irritable herself. That, and the fact that Cara was fawning over this girl. Yes, she decided. Fawning was exactly the word she'd use for both his tense stature and his smile. "That is, Caradoc. We came in with Cam but I don't think either of us wants to be responsible for him at the moment. Guess I'll get a pint and settle in so that the two of you can-"

Susanne caught her arm as she was about to walk away. "What's your rush?"

"No rush. Just going to get something to drink." She frowned down at the expertly manicured hand still holding on to her arm. "I don't want to be in the way."

"When you're invited somewhere," Susanne murmured for her ears only, "you're not in the way."

Quinn shook her head slightly. "It's fine. Go have fun. I'm good. I'll go," she waved a hand over in the general direction opposite of the mob, "watch."

Cara watched as Susanne tried to get Quinn to stay and when Q walked to a part of the pub that contained less people, he turned his attention back to the Quidditch star. There was something odd in the woman's eyes, something he couldn't quite place. It was almost as if she didn't want to be alone with him. He raised a brow and leaned on the end of the bar, crossing one ankle over the other. "You don't need to entertain me, Susanne. I'm perfectly capable on my own," he told her. "I'll buy you a drink as I already offered and then you can wander off and find a more suitable dance partner if that's what you'd like."

She knew a challenge when one was offered and she was more than willing to play this out, seeing as she'd already been bested at her own game once tonight. That wasn't sitting well with her one bit. Her eyes stayed locked on his face to see where he was going to look next. Would he run them down her body as if she was a piece of meat? Would he drop his gaze to his feet as if he'd never seen them before and was interested to see what shoes he'd decided to put on earlier that evening? Maybe he would meet her eyes and they'd play out the evening in unspoken conversation first.

 _Too aggressive. Back off before you end up somewhere you don't want to be. You don't even know if he's worth all the trouble you want to cause_ , her conscience soothed.

"I'll take that drink," she said in a much more pleasant tone of voice. It would be better not to alienate Cam's friends. Not if they ended up taking it further than a dance around the pub and a few stolen kisses in the shadows. "Then we'll see who I feel like dancing with."

He nodded, his lips twitching slightly as he pushed off the bar. "Fair enough." Of course, he had every intention of dancing with this beauitful woman. He shifted so that she could move past him and slide onto one of the two stools. With a quick gesture, Cara caught the barkeep's eye. "You don't care much for Cam, do you?" he said casually after they'd ordered.

It took several moments for Susanne to find the right words to explain herself. Normally, she would have given in to the urge to help someone else understand what went on in her head. With the kind of life she led, it was easier to keep her thoughts and emotions to herself as much as possible but, just as she was growing certain that her life was changing once again, she knew that this was not a man who was going to run out to find the nearest crack reporter and tell her secrets for a hefty sum.

"I like him well enough. I'm not much for change. Rebecca keeps to herself most of the time so this is a huge change. For her. For me." She took a long swallow of the drink that was set in front of her, wiping her lips carefully with a napkin before turning to him for the first time. "No offense to your friend but I'm not his biggest fan on the moment."

Caradoc chuckled, sniffing at the liquid before taking a drink. Change was an ever present part of his life. Yet, he couldn’t help but agree with Susanne about the change his best friend and the woman he was currently attached to on the dance floor were creating. It was palpable, even to a stranger. When he set his drink down, he met Susanne’s eyes. “Cam takes some getting used to,” he said cautiously. He thought for a moment about adding something to the effect of this not being casual for Cam, no matter how recently he’d met Rebecca Fenwick, but Caradoc didn’t think Susanne would appreciate that for what it was worth at this moment.

“Perhaps you just need a good distraction of your own,” he added, his lips curving before he pressed his glass to his mouth once again. “Something to take your mind off all of the unwanted change.”

She contemplated the man next to her while taking a drink. He really was good looking, both far away and up close. That wasn't something she could say about every bloke she met in a bar. Most of them were either good looking up close or when she was across the room. Never both.

"So, would you consider Camillo Figge your best friend?"

He nodded, liking the way her eyes were studying him. He kept his eyes trained solely on hers, however, despite the desire to sweep them over her body again. There would be plenty of time to study her curves when she danced with him. And later, if there was any amount of justice in this world. A bloke deserved a good time after nearly being blown up twice in one week, after all.

“One of them,” he told her. Of course, Cam was more than that. Quinn as well. “The other is sitting over there watching our friends make a spectacle of themselves.”

"So it is feasible that, were those two who are currently wrapped around each other like butter on lobster... and that makes me realize I'm hungry. But enough about that. So, those two," she pointed to the dance floor once again, "what if they decide to get together? What if they start having dinner parties? If we were to get together tonight, would you be able to come to those dinner parties knowing that I would be there? Knowing that I was the perfect one-night stand and you have to make polite dinner conversation looking into my eyes and remembering what I look like without this dress on? Do you like that sort of thing? Because I don't shag people I know. Or will know. Or want to know. It's a rule of mine. Do you not have something similar?"

Caradoc laughed. She was confident. Of course she was. The woman had been one of the top Quidditch players for a decade at least. You didn’t achieve the things she had without confidence both on and off the Pitch. Merlin but he loved a confident woman. He finished his drink and set the empty vessel back on the bar.

“I have two rules, Susanne. The first is that all parties know where each other stands. I’m not looking for serious, I’m looking for fun. I want no part of somebody who wants long term. It’s not fair to anyone. The second is to enjoy each moment for what it is, not for what it might be tomorrow.” He lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. It wasn’t that he didn’t think through the consequences, but in his line of work, you never knew when tomorrow might not dawn. “It’s kind of an occupational pitfall, if you will. Besides, one has nothing to do with the other. If you’re constantly holding back because of what might be tomorrow, you might miss the ride of your life tonight.” His eyes darkened for a moment as the image of her body above his flashed through his mind. He shook his head slightly and then acknowledged her inquiry. “But to answer your question – yes, if I took you to bed tonight or any other night, I would be able to look you in the eye and do more than make polite dinner conversation at this mythical dinner party.” In fact, he was well versed in exactly that type of scenario, but that was irrelevant to the woman sitting next to him.

He bent closer and lowered his voice, his mouth close to her ear. “The real question is, would you be able to have a civilized conversation with me knowing what my mouth had done to your body when it wasn’t hiding behind that dress?" He lingered next to her ear for a moment, letting his words penetrate her defenses. The hand that had found its way to her hip slid off slowly as he sat back. He raised it and signaled the man at the far end of the bar, pointing to his empty tankard. “Would you like something to eat, then? Or perhaps we can go and show Cam what a proper dance is supposed to look like."

Susanne contemplated sitting here with this delicious man and continuing this witty banter. She thought about taking him up on the offer of food and finding some corner restaurant that was still open this late at night and sharing a plate of something spicy. She even thought about dancing with him, pressing her body up against him in ways that were naughty in polite society. None of those would do. Not with the promise he held in his eyes. Of all the men she had met lately, she had found her true match and she wanted to test him out.

"I think I'd like to see just what your tongue can do." She stood up, careful to smooth out all the wrinkles from the material of her dress. When she was sure the job was complete, she stepped closer to Cara, measuring his shoulders with her eyes. "As luck would have it, I know the man who runs this bar. He keeps the front end stocked so that he doesn't have to waste time running to the back. Nice set up he's got, though. Quiet. Dark. I could show it to you if you think you'd like to see the operation from a more intimate view."

His lips curved at her challenge, the expression full of a different kind of hunger all together. The familiar shock ran through him and his gaze heated. For the first time since she’d approached, he let his eyes roam over her body, his eyes following the path her hands were making. When she seemed satisfied with her work, he looked up at her again. Snaking his arm around her waist, he pulled her closer to him. When the barman appeared with a bottle, Caradoc, his eyes still locked on Susanne’s, covered the top of the glass with his free hand and made a barely noticeable gesture with his fingers that sent the man on his way.

He slid gracefully from the bar stool so that he was facing her fully, his arm holding her tightly against him. Once again, Caradoc moved in so that his mouth was next to her ear. Some indistinct voice in his head told him he should dance with this woman first, have some chips or a game of darts before he went with her to a darkened room in the back of a local pub. He shut that rational thought down. There was no way he was going to deny himself the opportunity Susanne was offering him. Not tonight.

“Lead the way,” he breathed, letting his mouth close slowly over the skin just below her ear. He smiled against her neck, and then moved back so that he could look her in the eye once more.

Her smile was so big that it hurt her cheeks. She wasn't feeling cheeky or trying to showcase her lipstick. No, this smile was different. It was because she was happy. After a quick glance around to make sure that Becks was still locked in the same embrace and wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon, Susanne turned her attention back to the man in front of her. When she grabbed his hand, the warmth surprised her. It wasn't clammy or damp with fear.

"Come on, Handsome. Come with me." She led the way to door off to the side of the bar, confidant that she wouldn't be stopped or find anyone inside when she opened the door. There were hundreds of these doors in hundreds of pubs across Europe that she'd discovered over the years. Only certain people got to come home with her. Most of them got to enjoy her on site and then she could have a pint after.

The room was as she remembered it. A couple of shelves set up with the bar supplies had to be skirted before they were at the beauty of this particular room. Once upon a time, the man who owned this place had put all his money into this place and hadn't wanted to pay for a flat. Instead, he'd stayed here. The bed and wash stand was still in place, still set up with sheets and a blanket on the off chance that it was needed one again.

She let him look around the room before she turned back to him, her free hand working at the buttons down the front of her dress. "So this tongue of yours. Does it need to warm up first?"

Caradoc had been expecting to take her against the wall, a prospect he hadn’t ruled out yet, despite the bed that loomed in front of him. When she turned back to him, he reached out and stilled her hands. He placed them on his own shirt and let her go to work on undressing him. His hands slid easily through the opening of her dress, gliding over the warmth of her skin, grasping her hips tightly. Her eyes were locked on his, darkening with desire and sending waves of excitement through him. For once, Caradoc believed he would find his equal. A confident woman who knew exactly what she wanted and wouldn’t be afraid to tell him. Until that moment, however, he was going to take control.

One hand trailed back up her stomach and then moved to caress her cheek. He stroked a thumb over her lips before he slid his hand around to the back of her neck. “You tell me,” he whispered roughly before capturing her lips with his. His tongue shot out, running over her lips until she granted him access. A soft moan escaped him as her own tongue slid across his, matching his demand with equal enthusiasm.

Cara skimmed his hand up her side, moving to the small of her back. He splayed his fingers over the hard muscles there. His fingers curled slightly and he made a greedy noise as she arched into him. Moving up her back, he unlatched the clasp of her bra as his hand continued to her shoulders. He trailed his fingers across her collarbone and then down in between the perfect curves of her breasts and to her naval. He released the remaining buttons on the front of her dress and then dropped both hands to her hips. With quick movements, he lifted her easily, sliding his hands around to the swell of her arse and walking them back towards the wall until she was trapped between it and his body.

He moved his mouth to her chin and then to her neck, blazing a trail of heat down to her collarbone as his hands once again resumed the exploration of her body. He pushed the thin fabric of her bra up and then glanced up at her. Her eyes were on him again. Caradoc smiled before he took her left breast into his mouth, swirling his tongue around her nipple before he took the hard flesh fully into his mouth. After a moment, he trailed kisses to her other side and paid the same attention to her right side. When he slid his mouth back to her neck and then over her chin, he pulled back. “Warmed up enough?” he whispered huskily, though he didn’t wait for an answer before he had his mouth back on her skin.

"I'd say you've done a good job with the preliminary warm ups," she gasped as he found her pulse point, grazing the skin with his teeth while he placated it with his tongue, "but I'd hate to have you injure yourself because you didn't stretch adequately."

She wanted to help, really she did, but he had taken the lead and all she could do was keep herself upright as he found all the parts of her body that were crying out for attention. It was enough to just smooth her hands over the skin of his chest and shoulders although she'd given some thought to pushing his shirt out of the way so that she could explore the skin of his back. That would require too much thought and she had barely any attention to spare as his mouth began traveling over her again.

There was a moment when she thought he might let her free of this sweet torture but it was only to move her up so that his mouth could move lower. She complied, moving her hands up to fist in his hair.

"Sweet Hest, that's nice. Right there." She'd never heard her voice this raspy before. How long had it been since she'd been at someone's mercy like this? She almost opened her mouth to beg him to keep moving down until he had his mouth on the small nub that never got enough attention from these back room meetings. Any moment, she expected he would pull away and get himself off while she seethed at the injustice but his tongue just kept moving.

Her eyes slid closed as she concentrated on where his mouth was going, enjoying the sensations while they lasted. When he pulled away, she growled in frustration as her hands lost their hold of his hair. He was supposed to be different. Her eyes flew open as she was about to tell him to get on the bed so they could just get it over with but she found him staring at her, waiting for her.

His hand slid away from her hip, traveling down to rest on the inside of her thigh. Still he just stared at her. What was he playing at? Did he get his kicks on getting her all hot and bothered only to lose his direction now?

And then she did something she'd never done before with anyone else, not male or female. She opened her mouth and whispered, "Yes... please."

At her words, Caradoc surged forward, grabbing her around the waist. He was at the bed in a moment and was not nearly as gentle as he should have been as he laid her down. He positioned himself in front of her, sliding one hand over her ankle and up her leg to her thigh. His mouth soon followed the same path and he raised her leg, dropping it over his shoulder as he licked over her knee. Before he got to the spot he knew she wanted him, he switched directions and kissed his way down her other leg. He retraced the path, smiling against her skin each time her body wriggled beneath his touch. When he got to her hips, he slowed his pace down, trailing his tongue up and over her abdomen until he reached the dip of her belly button. With slow strokes, he teased the hole, glancing up at her as he did.

He laughed lightly when her hands moved to his hair, her fingers twining even as she urged him to the places she wanted him most. It was where he wanted to be as well, though he did not speed his pace any. He resumed his kissing of her thighs and then, slowly he moved his head, breathing softly against the sensitive skin. His tongue lapped gently at first, teasing, testing. And then he used it to part her lips, pushing further inside of her. She bucked beneath him and he settled his hands on her hips, holding her to the bed. He gave a few thrusts before he licked his way to the nub. His tongue did several laps, alternating between sucking it into his mouth, nipping it gently, and blowing softly on it, before he returned to her core.

He could feel her tensing around him, feel her release close. Instead of letting her have that, he withdrew, crawling up beside her and giving her breasts some much needed attention. His knee pressed gently against the heat between her legs as he sucked her nipple into his mouth again, tugging gently until she arched up against him. Caradoc growled as her hands pushed off his shirt and then fumbled with the buckle of his belt. "Not yet," he hissed, moving off her so he could finish pleasuring her first.

Susanne knew she should have protested or, at the very least, tried to take charge of this. It had been her idea, after all. Or had it? She was about ready to sit up and take matters into her own hands when his tongue circled her clit once again. The distraction of him undressing had made her forget that her body was primed for an explosion and the simple touch of his tongue on her once again was enough to lock all of her muscles in stasis as they waited for the promise that his tongue was offering. The word she'd never said before was suddenly a chant as she tried to force her body to obey her. While she wanted to reach down and pull him up her body, all she could do was clench her hands in the sheets.

Just when it felt as if she couldn't take any more of his dedicated ministrations, everything stopped for one glorious moment of perfection. It felt just like she was starting a dive on her broom and there was the moment of weightlessness at the very peak before she went into free fall. As her body began the decent down the other side of this buildup, she bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming.

When she opened her eyes again, he was looming over her, the smile on his lips full of satisfaction. "Not funny," she panted. "Don't think I'm going to let you get away with that." It was surprisingly easy to move him even though her bones felt like they'd come unhinged from each other but that didn't mean he was going anywhere. Since he wasn't going to let her have her way, she was going to have to take control from him. With one leg wrapped around his, she pushed at his shoulder with the hand on the same side. Sure enough, she was able to flip both of them off the bed.

"Sorry." She laughed at his irritated grunt, placating him with kisses along his clean-shaven jaw and down his throat to the pulse at the base of his neck. "Didn't mean to land on you quite that hard. Play nice, Caradoc. Turn about is fair play."

He had no intention of playing anything but nice with this woman. She was a ball of excitement and he’d rarely been as keyed up after that gratifying act as he was now. Probably had something to do with the guarantee of a return of enjoyment she was giving him now. Or the way her knee was gently massaging its way between his legs. He cooperated by lifting one knee and placing his foot flat on the ground and was rewarded with her fingers wrapping around him, alternating between a slow and torturous stroke and a pulsating squeeze that had his eyes closing and his lips parting.

Caradoc made a rough sound as her mouth spread around his neck and then down and across his chest. She was leaving behind a blast of cold air each time she found a new spot to caress with her mouth, yet at the same time soothing the impact points that had cried out at the force of being caught between her small, yet refreshingly muscular, body and the hard floor. He brought his hands up and ran his fingers down her neck and over the small marks he had made on her shoulders. It was only the curiosity of what she might do next that kept him from wrapping her up and flipping them back to their previous position so that he could have his way with her once more. But as she had said, turn about was fair play and he was nothing if he wasn’t fair in the bedroom. Or store room as the case was.

She loved that he was letting her have access to his body without flinching every time she took a breath or trying to anticipate her next move and trying to beat her there. All he was doing was enjoying himself at the moment, something she could appreciate. For now, she was having too much fun exploring the web of scars on his chest and abdomen. This was a man who had been hurt more times than even most of the Quidditch players she knew who had been playing for years.   
From time to time, she glanced up at him, enjoying the tight expression on his face. As she moved lower, moving from one old wound to the next, Susanne could feel his body tightening so that when she finally put her lips on him, she was prepared for the bucking of his hips. With a shiver of anticipation, she took him in her mouth, her own body tightening right along with his as she began to mimic the movement of her hand earlier.  
This time, the sound that left him was a guttural one from somewhere deep in his stomach. He writhed as she showed him that he wasn't the only one who could work miracles with their tongue. She slowly swirled it around his head, and then pressed it firmly against the underside of him as she took him into her mouth again. Over and over she repeated this motion, sometimes adding in her hand on parts of him that most women ignored. With every squeeze of her hand, Caradoc careened closer and closer to the edge and his hands on her head tightened until her mouth suddenly left him.

The look in her eyes told him he would not be so lucky after his tortuous performance with her. He took a deep breath, just barely suppressing the urge to surge up and grab her by the hips, settling her on top of him. His jaw tightened when her tongue came out and licked slowly up his length. He wanted to close his eyes, but found he couldn’t look away from the blue eyes that were trained on his. An electric shock went through his body. The thrill of her watching his face while she was working her mouth against him was almost too much for him. He pushed himself up on his elbows and crooked a finger at her.

“Come here,” he whispered hoarsely. When she shook her head, he laughed. “Don’t think I won’t come get you,” he said, his voice slightly louder but no less rough.

She smiled and began a slow and sensual crawl up his body, eliciting yet another groan as he watched her body move over his. He reached up and ran his hands lightly over her breasts and down her sides. She was so lovely, so soft, and so damn vivacious it set his blood on fire. He licked his lips when she straddled his hips, his eyes watching the point where their bodies would join. He swallowed thickly as she began to settle herself onto him, his hips bucking up when she finally closed around him.

“Sweet Godric,” he moaned, but lost all ability to speak when she began rocking her hips. He placed his hands on her hips, but she removed them and informed him that she would be setting the pace tonight. He would need to remember to say an extra thank you tonight to whatever deity had blessed him with this woman tonight.  
Just as she was about to throw the last dart, Quinn felt a jolt of power at her wrist. It was almost enough of a surprise that she nearly missed the shot. Tonight, of all nights, she assumed they would be allowed to have the night to themselves. "Pay up, boys. I think I should sit this one out." There was a general chorus of dismay as every other player had to dig into their pockets for her winnings but Quinn wouldn't be swayed into a rematch. She knew better than to get herself into a game she couldn't end. This first summons had been light meaning that Gid was giving them time to come in on their own. The last time she'd been called home by this means, she'd waited until her arm was numb.

As she broke away from the blokes that had been more than happy to spend their evening losing money to a small girl who didn't look like she could handle her weight in liquor or lift her arm to throw enough darts to play as many rounds as she had (she might have deliberately misled them to believe she'd never played before but that was their loss), she looked for Cam and Cara. One was still where he'd been all night long and the other was nowhere to be seen. He hadn't left the building or she assumed he would have said something but then, he'd been with Susanne so maybe not. The woman was beautiful enough to make anyone forget the first and only rule they had on these nights out. You told the group if you left the building. Simple as that.

She went back up to the bar and ordered a tall glass of water. She'd been going back and forth with her order, wanting to keep her wits about her as she was betting money she couldn't afford to waste. With this last payment, her brownstone would be paid for. Finally, a place that was really and truly hers. No one else knew about it, not even Cam and Cara, but she figured she'd surprise them one night by inviting them over for dinner. They wouldn't like her holding out on them but this was something that she didn't want to mess up by talking about too much.

The music changed to something slow as her wrist jerked with the next summons. Yep, they were definitely needed back at the Beach House. She looked over to see if Cam was reacting but he was still wrapped around Rebecca. There was a smile on his face, one that she hated to get rid of by going over to question if he'd gotten the same jolt she just had. It had to be done, though. One more and maybe she'd head over.

Cam flexed his fingers as his hand momentarily went numb. Seeing as it was a good excuse to slip his hand further under the hem of Rebecca's shirt, he didn't figure she was noticing his movements. He only wished he could feel her skin instead of the buzz of energy against his fingertips. No matter what, he was going to have to be drug away from Rebecca tonight and Gideon should have known that. A summons using a shock wasn't going to work. He wanted a good reason for this call. Better than _you might be in danger_ because he'd been there already this week. And if this was a new job, Gideon could find another team.

"Where were we? Sorry, I got distracted." He moved his other hand through the hair at the nape of her neck. "Again. You were telling me about your summer."

Rebecca laughed lightly. This wasn't the first time Camillo had asked her to repeat herself tonight. It seemed that even if he found himself distracted by her hands or her lips, he still seemed to want to hear and absorb every word she said and Rebecca found herself wanting to tell him things she rarely shared about her life. Things that were more personal than anything she had ever offered to those outside her small circle of family and friends. They talked about school, though Camillo had been a bit more reserved about his time at school, but it hadn't taken long for her to remember the name that had been whispered through the Hufflepuff common rooms. He had acknowledged that the handsome man that came in with him was indeed _that_ Caradoc Dearborn. He had also mentioned that Quinn was a friend from school as well and his voice took on a fond tone when he talked about her skills in subterfuge and other areas. Rebecca liked that he was still friends with these people from his school days. Somehow, she thought it said quite a bit about his character.

They talked about family; her parents and his brother and sister-in-law. They even talked about her reasons for becoming a Quidditch player in the first place and she found herself telling Camillo Figge the deeper reasons behind her choice. The one that precious few people knew. That, of course, had led to questions about her brother which was the only time Rebecca had easily changed the topic. For his part, Camillo had let her without pressing her and had gone into a story about an orphanage they recently helped out and the horn one of the children had given Caradoc. He laughed when he told her how Quinn had seemed perplexed as to how to remove the thing and so his partner and friend had sported the spike all through dinner. She decided then that she liked his laugh. It was deep, almost like a rumble, and yet somehow he’d still managed to keep it private. As if it were only for her ears at that moment.

She launched into the telling of her summer’s adventures with Susanne’s brother but stopped as she saw Quinn approaching. Instinctively, as if she knew the woman was coming to end this evening’s fun, Rebecca tightened her hold on Camillo’s shirt. His expression changed and he looked at her with curiosity. The resigned look on Quinn’s face told Rebecca she had not been wrong in her assumption.

“I think our evening is going to end unexpectedly again.”


	7. All the Pretty Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the bad guys make an appearance.

The lights of the city never ceased to move Moane Figge. Often, she would stand at the window of her office and try to count them all, marveling at the brilliant colors. It was quiet up here, though, so far above the tops of the rest of the city that she felt completely alone even in this place full of hundreds of thousands of people. While some people wouldn't think so, Moane did like this time she could take with her thoughts. With the chaotic life she lived, there were very few of these moments that she had alone like this. The rest of the time, she was creating as much mayhem as she could. Whether it be with spells or, more recently, with these new bombs that they'd been instructed to start using on a few, specific contacts, she was very good at what she did.

Truth be told, she didn't like blowing things up. Those lights were too bright, the sound too loud. It was always hard to know when a job was truly complete and it was impossible to watch the deaths to make sure they were completed. There was, of course, a time and a place for the flash and bang. That was why she had minions, after all. They were there to do the jobs she couldn't, or wouldn't, do.

But it seemed that she needed to start getting her hands dirty once again. She sank back in the cushioned chair as she contemplated all the jobs that had gone wrong of late. Something needed to be done. If she didn't get things back on the right path, there would be a high price to pay. All this failure was piling up and Madam wanted to know what she planned on doing to make it right.

The problem remained that she had no idea how to make this all right. Part of her had been reluctant to even look into these ruined actions because they took place in England. Thinking of England only made her think of her brothers which only made her angry. Anger did nothing but cloud her vision of the future. That would never do. If she was to do Madam's bidding, she needed to be clear headed and focused. There would be a time and a place to be able to deal with her brothers.

The soft knock on the door brought her head around even though she knew who it would be. No one else dared knock when the lights were out and very few would have even come this far into her rooms. That left only Ollie. Dear, stupid Ollie. She had been molding him for years now and his potential was just starting to peak. She couldn't wait to see what he might do when he came into his own and was no longer just her mouthpiece.

"Come in, Pet. I'm just contemplating the lights."

Ollie shivered at the sound of her voice calling to him, using the special name she reserved for him alone. He pushed open the door, saw her standing at her windows, framed by the city’s lights, and lost his breath for a moment. Sweet Judas, she was perfect. He moved to stand behind her, looking out over the city as well. He didn’t touch her as he hadn’t been given permission, but he stood as close as possible, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. In every way, she was remarkable; from her beautiful soft skin to the intellect that reflected out of her dark eyes. But it was her taste for all things dark that enthralled him the most. She delighted in pain and destruction and had cultivated his own curiosity. When nobody else saw through to his true heart, his lady love had. There had never been, nor would there ever be, anybody quite like his lady love.

Except of course – but he wasn’t thinking about that right now. Especially after the failure of Geneva. Ollie wasn’t sure where he stood on that subject at the moment. A part of him cursed the ingenuity of those blasted men. Oh how he would have reveled in looking down at their burned and rotting corpses. Yet… there was a part of him that was glad it wasn’t over so quickly. Yes, eight years was a long time to wait for your revenge, but his lady love had taught him the virtue of patience. After all these years, death somehow seemed too easy. And the bomb especially seemed wrong. When they met their ultimate suffering, Ollie wanted them to know whose hand it had been at.

His lady love made a gesture with her hand and Ollie moved away, finding the chair that sat in the darkness. “What do the lights have to say tonight, my sweet?”

"They say that we have been getting lazy. We have allowed others to do our job for too long." She took one of his hands in hers. When she was feeling at her lowest, she would take hold of his hand and find hope once again. With a light touch, she followed the lines of each of his bones with the pad of her ring finger. "Madam is angry with us. She has lost faith in our vision."

Without looking at him, she found the joint of his small finger, where the digit attached to the hand. She pushed at it, exerting a growing pressure as she let out the anger and irritation she felt inside. It was nice when she could share her pain with him like this. As the joint softened under the pressure, she felt her burden lightening.

"We must do something to remind her of what we can do for her. Madam must see our vision once again. What say you? Shall we go find something to play with? I haven't gotten my hands dirty is so long."

Ollie’s jaw tightened as the pain began radiating from his knuckle up through his arm. He had long ago learned not to cry out or make sudden jerky movements in a vain attempt to get away. Those actions only made the pain worse and the recovery time longer. Now though, he almost craved the feeling. Despite the searing sensation, he wouldn’t trade places with anybody for anything. Except – but no he wouldn’t think like that anymore. He needed to be here, needed to be the one his lady love turned to in her time of need. The pain was a reminder that she needed him as well. That he could give her something she couldn’t get for herself. He could take her worry from her and give her some relief in its place. Of course, he would like to provide her relief in other fashions, but physical attention seemed a difficulty for his lady love. This was her preferred method of intimacy and he savored it.

When at last she loosened the pressure, and Ollie found his voice again, he lifted his eyes to hers. His bone would need some attention of the potion variety tonight and he would likely have a spectacular bruise tomorrow, but it was all worth it. Her affections always were. And tonight, he would give her news that would make her eyes spark.

“I think I might have the perfect toy for you, my sweet,” he said, his voice rough from the pain and the other desires it brought forth. “I bring you news from Bene. News I believe will make those luscious lips of yours curve in appreciation.” His own lips curved in the smile his mates had always sat was somewhat reminiscent of a rat. “It seems that Prewett and his band of misfits are harboring a McKinnon.”

The lights lost their appeal as she heard what her pet had to say. Still, she didn't want to trust his words right away. She'd been burned by Bene before. His induction into this group had been against her wishes but she wasn't the one who oversaw the entire operation. Black had her reasons and, she had learned long ago, they were not to be questioned. Not if she liked breathing.

"A McKinnon? Where did they get a McKinnon?" These were just musings and were not the real questions running through her brain. _How can I get my hands on that same McKinnon? What could the Prewetts possibly need with a seer? How did Ollie hear about this before me?_ "Tell Bene I want a meeting. It is high time we begin to formulate a better plan than what is in place at the present. Madam will expect results and that is exactly what we will give her."

When Ollie moved as if he might walk out of the room, she placed her hands on either side of his face and leaned down as if she might kiss him. Instead, she pressed with all her might until he moaned. "We will not look at this as a chance to right our wrongs. Do you understand me, Pet? There will be a time and a place for that. First, we must get our hands on the McKinnon and then we can have our fun."

He nodded, just the barest hint of movement under her still-straining hands. It was exactly what she would have expected of him. And she also expected him to go against her wishes on this. One of them had to pretend that this was all part of the job. Better she was the one who would come out of this on the right side if things went pear-shaped. As much as she liked her Pet, she also knew that she would gladly throw him to the lions if she needed to. That was the reason she kept him around. He was so deliciously useful.


	8. Ends Become Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad news hits the team just when they think things might be looking up. Sometimes the cards need to be reshuffled in order to get a better hand.

Caradoc stood in front of Susanne who he had once again trapped against the wall. He would have preferred to use the wash stand next to the bed to clean her up, but had to settle for using magic since the former would have definitely led to another round. Damn, but he wished he had time for that. He almost desperately wanted to take it there again but the incessant shock at his wrist told him he did not have time for another go with this fantastic woman tonight.

After pulling on his slacks, he had helped her button her dress, though he’d barely been able to feel the buttons by the time they got to that activity and he had cursed Gideon with a thousand different ailments when he had run his hands over the woman’s perfect and could no longer feel her soft skin against his.

“I had really hoped to share a dance with you tonight, Susanne,” he murmured against her neck, flexing the fingers that were currently pressed against her hip. “And perhaps a late dinner.” He let his lips trail a path up her neck and over to her mouth. “Perhaps another night,” he added before kissing her soundly.

"I'd hold you to that," Susanne whispered when she could breath again, her body still trying to figure out how her bones and sinews were supposed to work together, "but I don't like to tempt fate. Tonight was lovely. Thank you."

She held up his shirt and watched as he put it on, not wanting to start something she knew they wouldn't be able to finish if she helped. When they were smoothed and put together once again, with only a few moments where they forgot themselves and had to be reminded that they were done, she opened the door back to reality.

Quinn was sitting at the bar, her head in her hands. A man stood beside her, something about him very familiar. It wasn't until they were closer that she realized that she was staring at one half of her favorite set of twins. "Gideon Prewett, as I live and breath." He looked up, surprise stamped all over his face. For good measure, because it took him a moment to place her and because he hadn't called when he said he would, she slapped him across the face.

"Good to see you again, Suse. What's it been? Five years?" He rubbed at the sting of his cheek. "Glad it hasn't been longer or I'm afraid of the greeting."

Caradoc raised a brow at the look on Gideon's face. It was as if he were trying to place the woman at Caradoc's side. For an instant, Caradoc felt a shiver of unease. This feeling intensified when Susanne marched up to the older man and slapped him and Cara wondered if they had been an item. Though, he supposed shagging the man's ex-girlfriend wasn't nearly as unforgivable as shagging the man's little sister at every possible opportunity. He didn't have time to think this through or even question the relationship, however, because when Quinn looked up at him, her eyes wide and her expression sad, Cara felt his insides go cold for a whole different reason. Instinctively, he looked for Cam and found him a short distance away, no longer dancing and looking like a love-sick puppy dog.

Whatever it was that brought Gideon here, it had to be huge or the man wouldn't have found his way to this pub. Sweet Merlin! He hoped it wasn't Adi. It couldn't be Fabian or Gideon wouldn't look so stoic. The rational part of Caradoc’s brain told him that it couldn’t be Adi or Loah either as Cam was still gently holding Rebecca. If it had been one of them, Cam would not still be here.

"What happened?" he asked in a tight voice, his stomach clenching.

"Foster and Hayes are dead," Quinn answered in a small voice as she looked up at Cara. "Their bodies were left on the steps of the Essex house. That was _my_ location. Mine. I was the only one who used it. None of the others bothered with it anymore."

She felt very cold, even in the overheated room. Her hands, so steady a moment before, were shaking even though she was trying to keep calm. It was a hard thing to do when she wanted to scream but that could wait for later. If she'd paid attention to the summons when it first came, she could have shown some emotion because she'd be away from prying eyes. She wondered if any of the people here tonight knew their lives were in danger. They were always in danger but no one seemed to understand that.

A tear leaked out the side of her right eye but she caught it before it could leak down the side of her face. She was so tired of crying. As she stared up at Cara, scared to even begin thinking of the close calls he and Cam had been through lately, she tried to steady her voice the same as she was trying to get her hands under control. "They were good men. I liked them both even if Foster did still owe me thirty knuts."

Unconsciously, Caradoc's hands curled into fists at Quinn's words. That made absolutely no sense. If they were the only ones using it anymore, then it was unlikely to have been compromised. They hadn't used that particular house in... hell, it had to have been at least six weeks but he thought it was probably longer than that.

It took a great deal of effort to keep his feet planted where they were, to not go to Quinn and grab her by the chin and reassure her. To remind her that this was a risk they had all signed up for. It was easier, sometimes, to keep to the cold facts instead of having to face the reality that two people he had respected a great deal would not be showing up for Sunday Dinner at the Beach House anymore. So when Quinn wiped at her face and then started up at him, Cara averted his gaze from hers. If he looked at her for too much longer, he would go to her and he knew that would be the last thing she would want. She didn't like showing too much emotion in public places, and he could respect that. Besides, he needed answers and he wasn't going to get them here in the middle of this public house.

He stared at Gideon for a moment, and then over at Cam and Rebecca Fenwick, before finally settling his gaze on Susanne. "I am truly sorry that you had to be a witness to this ugliness," he whispered for ears alone. "I hope that if you ever honor me with your presence again, we'll be able to end the night on a much happier note." Forgetting himself and his earlier questioning of the woman's relationship with Gideon, Caradoc leaned forward and brushed his lips over her cheek, slipping a card from his own pocket and depositing in her hand. "If you should ever find yourself in need of assistance, or you just want repeat of that store room, use this. I'll find you."

When he pulled back, he met Cam's gaze. "Quinn and I will meet you back at the house." He nodded to Gideon before holding his hand out to Quinn. "Come on, Q. Let me take you home."

Cam watched Cara and Quinn until they were out the door, gone from his view. He was feeling so incredibly conflicted. If he'd been with anyone else, he wouldn't have thought twice about making a swift goodbye and leading his team back to the Beach House. This was different. She was different.

"Sorry, Cam. We have a lead. If we hadn't, I would have left you alone for the night." Gideon offered his friend a small smile. "I know that's little comfort but it's all I have for you."

Turning to Susanne, Gideon held out his hand. When she took it, he turned it over and kissed the back of her hand. "You're right. It's been too long since we've seen each other. It's a pity you've found another to fill the void. And here I was going to offer a chance to make up for that last dinner. Don't look so surprised. I remember that night just as well as you do." He winked at her before heading out the door of the pub, leaving the three of them to figure out their goodbyes.

"Maybe we should think about a breakfast date next time," Cam offered, trying for a bit of humour that he didn't really feel. This hadn't been anything like the idea he'd had for the ending to this evening. He traced the vein running up her neck with the back of his finger. "Definitely something in the middle of the day. Nothing bad seems to happen to me in the middle of the day."

Rebecca smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes, and leaned into his touch. The light pressure he was using sent shivers up her spine and she was reminded of what she would once again be missing out on tonight. She wanted to be irritated over this, wanted to rail against fate's cruel humour, but all she could do was sigh. Reaching up, she withdrew Camillo's hand from her neck and held it tightly in her own.

As she looked up into his dark eyes, she realized something. She had been romanticizing his lifestyle in her mind for the past day and the reality of it stung her harder than any Bludger ever had. This evening's news had served as a cold wake up call to the kind of life Camillo actually led. It was dangerous, and not in that s.xy way she'd been picturing it, but in that dead on the steps of a safe house way. More so than Benjy's life because her baby brother still had some anonymity. Camillo was exposed, for all the wizarding world to see. And she had done him no favours by being seen with him. In fact, she had simply shined a spot light on him and his identity.

Before she could retreat into the safety of his arms, the promise this man held in his eyes, Rebecca stepped further away from him. She dropped his hand before she could bring it to her lips and press it against her skin and take all over the comfort she knew he would offer her.

"Perhaps it is best if we..." But she couldn't finish the sentence. She didn't want to. Somehow, this man had found his way into her soul, into that dark place that she had held closed in favour of success and fame and glory. And she couldn't seem to get the door to close again, no matter how hard the was pushing.

"Right." He sighed, rubbing at the sudden ache in his chest. What had he been thinking? Dropping this sort of thing in front of a woman who just used to a kiss at the end of a date was not going to add to his list of attributes. This wasn't really a date. He'd just showed up where she was, a happy accident. For him. She'd probably had other plans that he'd been keeping her from.

He turned to Susanne and nodded his head at her in farewell. She did the same, turning toward the bar to get a drink to give them some privacy that he wasn't so sure they needed.

When he turned back to Rebecca, she hadn't moved. "I'll... I'll leave you to your evening festivities. It's been..." but he faltered when she didn't look at him, his stomach dropping out from under him. "Right."

It was her out. He was handing her the very thing she was just trying to reach, even if it wasn't what she wanted. She should take it and be grateful. Yet something was urging her in the exact opposite direction. Towards him. Rebecca stopped her feet from moving and took a deep breath.

"Thank you for tonight," she said, still not looking up at him. "I'm sorry for your loss, Camillo."

"It's not just mine to bear but thank you," he whispered, wondering what he was still doing standing here. He should have left with Cara and Quinn. He shouldn't have even come. Last night was a gift that he shouldn't have expected to duplicate.

But he wanted to duplicate it. The thought of leaving her without a kiss was more of an agony than the death of his friends. When he moved forward, she didn't back away. Instead of kissing her on the mouth, he lost this sudden urge and just dropped the kiss on her cheek.

This time, the breath she took was a shuddering one. All resolve to try and protect him from the aspects of her own life that seemed in direct contradiction to his own life and the mission he and his partners worked towards fell away. If she let him walk away from her now, the chances that he would ever come back into her life were slim. She couldn't leave it like this. Rebecca wanted him to know that she had wanted him, had sought him out. She needed him to know that this was not one-sided, and the way he had just kissed her cheek told her everything she needed to know.

"I used the card," she blurted in a whisper. When he looked at her with question in his eyes, she added, "To find you. I wanted you here tonight, Camillo. It was Quinn's idea to let this be one of those bump-into kind of situations." So she could keep some of her pride. Fat lot of good that had done as she was ready to throw herself at this man to keep him from walking away from her for more than just the night. "But ... it's just ... I ..." She what? Didn't want to expose him? That sounded so trite given his occupation.

"I don't want this to be goodbye," she said in the same low tones, her voice almost desperate.

He pulled her into a tight hug as his heart broke wide open. It was nice to know this wasn't one-sided. Falling in love with someone who didn't reciprocate wasn't something he wanted to do. This was enough, though. "This isn't goodbye," he whispered close to her ear. "I will find you again."

This time the kiss landed where it was supposed to. Instead of thinking where he was supposed to be, Cam immersed himself in Rebecca. As much as he knew he would move heaven and earth to find her again, he didn't know when the next time would be. Not with the deaths hanging over him like this. His team would come first and these deaths would be avenged, but Rebecca Fenwick came a very close second.

"I will find you again," he murmured as he placed his forehead against hers. "I will find you."

Something in Rebecca relaxed, even if her body was still tense against his. It was a strange sensation to be this drawn to a man she had only just met. In fact, it was more than strange; it was a bit frightening. Yet she couldn't help the pull she felt towards him, and she didn't know how to deny it. No matter how selfish that made her. She consoled herself with the fact that he was a grown man, who knew the risks better than she did and could choose to walk away at any time.

"We're in town for two weeks before our next match," she said, tilting her head to brush his lips with her own. "Go and take care of things, but if you have time..." She slipped a hand in her pocket and withdrew a small stone. When she pressed it between her fingers, it transfigured into a pen. It was a lovely way of always having something to use to sign the autographs so that her fans were never disappointed when they didn't have a functioning utensil. One of Benjy's finer pieces of work, she thought. Rebecca flipped Cam's hand over and scribbled two locations into his palm. Then she brought his hand to her lips, placed a gently kiss over the words and folded his hands. Cupping his cheek, she added, "And for Circe's sake, Camillo. Be safe."

With a soft smile, she turned and joined Susanne at the bar. A tall glass of pink liquid was immediately placed in front of her and she raised it in thanks to the barman. When she felt an arm slide around her, she laid her head on her best friend's shoulder. "At this rate, I'm going to explode with unexplored sexual tension," she quipped, though there wasn't her usual undercurrent of amusement in the remark.

Cam didn't immediately head for the Apparating site after he walked out of the pub. Instead he turned and found the darker shadow against the wall. There had been a similar shadow inside the room but he was more interested in this one.

"Laben, I would have a word with you," he said out loud, waiting for the shadow to disengage from his watchful waiting. "I want you to take a message to your boss for me. Tell him I want him to call me whenever he's in need of assistance. Tell him the same goes for the rest of you. I am available whenever and wherever. He knows how to find me."

Laben held out his hand. "Glad to know it. Nice to be seeing your ugly mug again so much. Maybe you'll come by and spar with the boy sometime... when you aren't busy with other things."

It took effort to hide his smile as he cradled his marked hand against his chest as if he was guarding the most precious item in the world. "I would like that. If I'm not busy with other things."

It took only a matter of minutes to get back to the Beach House but he felt like he was in a different world. There was a silence about the place that had nothing to do with the lateness of the hour. He moved toward the large room normally used for meals but was also available for large meetings. From the murmuring conversations, it sounded like everyone had been called in for this one. As he walked through the doorway, he acknowledged Gideon's nod before going over to stand by Cara and Quinn on the far wall.

"Is anyone missing?" he asked Cara quietly, wondering if they would be hearing news of any other bodies showing up in strange places before the night was over. He hated these kinds of meetings, but he especially loathed them when there was bad news to be discussed.

Though he knew the answer, Cara's eyes scanned the room for any obvious gaps. He felt a shudder run through Quinn's body and subconsciously pressed his shoulder closer to her. Even through his clothing he could tell she was cold, despite the increased temperature in the room due to the amount of people milling about. He wished they could just get this over with so he could get her settled and then begin the task of finding the bastards that were responsible for this and returning the favour.

"Sabel's down in the Infirmary with Loah and Adi. She had to be sedated when she was told. Gideon said we're just waiting on Fab's team to return and then we'll begin," he said under his breath. "They all checked in but had a few ends to seal up before they could come--" He stopped when two people Cara knew were not part of this group entered the room. One he recognized from his days at Hogwarts, the other a complete unknown. "The woman is Phillipa Hartsel," he said in answer to Cam's unasked question. "No idea on the bloke."

Cara watched the pair carefully as they positioned themselves near the exit. They stood close together, their shoulders touching so that they almost formed a 'v', giving them a view of the entire room. Not new recruits. Only seasoned warriors took such a stance in a room full of potential threats. The Pack. These must be the two Gideon spoke of earlier. Caradoc felt his fists clenching even though his hands were tucked under his armpits. Why in the blazes would outsiders attend a meeting such as this. Surely there was no need for them to _observe_ the reactions of The Group's members as they were told of the loss of two of their teammates.

Quinn glanced up as Cara's stance subtly changed, barely remembering that Gideon had spoken to her about the new additions only a couple of hours ago. There had probably been paperwork somewhere that she should have been reading that would have told her who they were. Or, maybe not. She very much doubted that the Pack would let many reports be written up about them, considering how private they were about their goings on.

Then it struck her that Cara knew the girl but she didn't. What a turn around. Was this yet another girl to add to the list of Cara's everlasting conquests? She didn't normally get growly about the list, which she was fairly certain didn't exist anywhere but in her own head, but she was too raw at the moment. Too exposed.

There was something about the bloke that was familiar to her, though. She couldn't put her finger on it until she looked over at Cam and noticed how pale he suddenly was. The pieces suddenly fell into place. "Does your Rebecca have a brother that they don't talk about in any of the life stories they write up on her when Quidditch news gets scarce?"

He opened his mouth as if he was going to answer before closing it again when nothing came out. Quinn grinned and nudged Cara. "Oh, this is good. The silent man is now completely speechless."

Cara's lips curved slightly as he looked first from Quinn, then to Cam, and finally back to the man in question. As he looked closer, he noticed the subtle similarities to Cam's crush. He vaguely remembered that there was a Fenwick in his year; a Huffle, he believed, but he hadn't had many interactions with the boy and couldn't even recall his name. Therefore, he couldn't really have said whether the man across the room was indeed the brother of one Rebecca Fenwick.

He elbowed his partner and leaned over, his eyes still on the interlopers. In the same hushed tone, he said, "What's the matter, mate? I'm sure he'll be fine with you publicly snogging his sister." When Cam still made no sound, Cara took his eyes from the pair and looked at Cam. "You don't know for certain that the man is her relation, Cam."

"Won't matter if he is." Cam did his best to sound like it didn't matter that Rebecca's brother was standing across the room when, in fact, it was making him twitchy. He'd barely gotten to know the girl in question. Having a brother thrown into the mix, one that he'd assumed he wouldn't meet for a long time from the way she talked about him, was throwing him for a loop. His head should have been on tight for this meeting but now he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time... fear. There was so much jeopardizing this potential relationship. How could they possibly overcome it? All he knew was that he would scale mountains and ford rivers and take on dragons to be with Rebecca. It was complete bollocks but he didn't care. He could only hope that the dragon wouldn't turn out to be her brother.

When Quinn tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a chuckle, he could only glare. The ruse hadn't worked. With a muttered string of expletives, he recrossed his arms over his chest and decided to pretend they weren't there.

It was perfect timing as Fabian, Janet and Calvin entered the room. Their unkempt state was a good indicator of just how important this meeting, seeing as Fabian had a thing about heading straight to his room for a shower and a change of clothes before joining any group activities. The man liked to be clean. Now, as he strode up to Gideon with a grim face, it was easy to see that they'd had some difficulty wherever they had been. If there was a spot on his clothing that wasn't dusty and dirty, it was ripped or frayed.

"I talked to Gideon when I got back in just now. Turns out Fabian hasn't been able to send complete messages considering he's been running across Europe, chasing leads. It wasn't until they hit Brynmawr that he was able to get a decent message to anyone. Gid's been waiting for a reason to send backup but Fabian kept refusing, for some reason."

"Brynmawr?" Cam shifted his position so that he was able to concentrate on Quinn. "What were they doing in Wales if they came from Europe?"

She shrugged. "That I don't know. From the sounds, and the look, of things, I'd say they were doing a bit more than just taking a casual stroll. Doesn't Black have a stronghold in Brynmawr?"

"I believe so." Caradoc nodded even as he looked up at Gideon and Fabian. The relief at seeing his brother alive and functioning written all over Gideon's face. A part of Caradoc eased as well. It was one thing to hear that the team was safe, and another to see it for yourself. Fabian's eyes lifted and as they locked on Cara's, the older man nodded. They would talk later. Caradoc took a deep breath to relieve the pressure he felt building behind his eyes. What a fucking mess this was. A simple mission that hadn't required the finesse of Cam, Cara, or Quinn had turned into an attempt on their lives. Had it been Gerard's team, they would have been burying two more of their family. And judging by the stress showing on each member of Fabian's team, cleanup had also nearly blown up in their faces, though maybe not quite so literally.

He scrubbed a hand over his face but was spared having to say anything further by the appearance of Loah. The Healer quietly took his place by his brother's side just as Gideon cleared his throat and stepped forward.

Quinn tried to concentrate as Fabian started going over the information she already knew, thanks to her quick conversation at the pub and then again when she arrived back at the Beach House, but she was already hours ahead. As soon as the meeting was over, she had places she needed to check and people she needed to talk to. All these words were doing was slowing her down.

She glanced over at the new people and wasn't surprised when she found them looking in her direction, then directly at her when they realized she was looking at them. The two of them were in tandem, their movements almost identical in this room of strangers. It was a welcome relief to have something else to think about instead of the mess at Essex Theta.

"The new guys have that freaky mental telepathy," she whispered out of the corner of her mouth to Cara, leaning toward him so that she could keep her voice just barely audible. "Have you noticed? They're talking about us without saying a word. You can see it in their eyes."

Instinctively, Cara's head tilted toward Quinn's. She had been turning her wrist in a small circle, something he only noticed because they were pressed so closely together and he could feel it against his hip. With a small movement, Caradoc moved his hand so that his wrist was pressed agaisnt Quinn's. A small gesture to show her that he understood her frustration and the impatience she was feeling. At her words, his eyes moved back to the new two observers across the room. As if they were one, both sets of eyes shifted to meet his own. Not surprisingly, Quinn was right.

"People might think that about you and me and growly pants over there," he told her in the same hushed tones she was using. It didn't make it any less creepy to see it instead of being in the middle of it.

He was still holding the interlopers gaze when he noticed the shift in Phillipa's intensity. It was a subtle shift but told him that the two Pack members knew the pain of everybody in this room and offered their condolences. Cara's lips lifted into a resigned smile and he inclined his head in Phill's direction just as Gideon turned and introduced the two.

Phill forgot how to breath when she heard her name from the front of the room. The smile she'd put in place when she met Cara's glance fell away as if it had never been there in the first place. She didn't like being noticed, even by people that she had been assured would be safe.

"They aren't here to do our jobs. They've lost people, the same as us. There's something similar between some of our losses and some of theirs and they're here to see if they can't help us find more of those similarities. I want them to be treated like you would treat any other team here right now."

It was easy to tell that Gideon was talking to a certain group in the room, opposite from the group she recognised. They weren't paying any attention to the leader as he talked, though. Their glares were more than obvious. They weren't just irritated to have their meeting interrupted like some of the other people had been when they'd initially come in but the room but seemed to angry that they were there.

Benjy had obviously noticed them as well because his hands were suddenly clenched in fists. She reached down and grabbed the hand closest to her, pushing at the knuckles until he was forced to unclench.

"Breathe," she whispered.

It wasn’t that Benjy hadn’t noticed the trio that obviously took great exception to his and Phill’s presence; more that he was choosing to focus his energies elsewhere. Like on the man who had snogged his sister on this morning’s rags. Something in his eased when Phill’s shoulders gave the smallest sign of relief, but as his partner once again tensed beside him, Benjy was forced to acknowledge the three who Prewett was obviously addressing.

He did as Phill instructed though and took a deep breath. In through his nose, out through his mouth. His body responded and he twined his little finger up until it touched Phill’s fingers. With a deliberate calm, Benjy looked up and met the gaze of the dark haired man in the middle of the trio of haters. He offered a smile, though it held nothing but promises of immense pain to any who thought to act on their irritation. The man’s own lips curved into a sneer, but it was the greasy man who looked away first. The other two followed suit and Benjy let his gaze travel around the room, settling once again on the group of people he and Phill had been watching the entire meeting.

He vaguely heard the words of dismissal from Prewett and he settled himself to stay put despite his desire to flee from this room of hostility. Several people nodded and exchanged greetings as they filed from the room. The group whose animosity was most palpable did not make eye contact as they filed past and a moment later, Benjy and Phill were left with the Prewetts and the four people who had captivated his and Phill’s attention for much of the meeting.

“Phillipa Hartsel. How the hell are you?”

Dearborn. Benjy recognized him from school and Figge from the rags and Loah from the earlier tour. He did not know the girl who stood slightly behind Dearborn as he walked over to them.

It took a great effort for Benjy to keep his hands from clenching again as Dearborn reached with outstretched arms for Benjy’s partner. She was a Gryffindor, it was unlikely they hadn’t known each other. Still, with Rusty’s death so raw Benjy couldn’t help the protective instinct to shield Phill from harm. Especially in an environment such as this one.

“It’s been too long. I see why now,” Cara said as he released Phill. He turned to Benjy and held out his hand. “Fenwick. Nice to meet you. Wish it could have been under different circumstances. As does Cam, I’m sure.”

He clasped the other man’s hand and then stood aside. “You know Loah I’m sure. And this is Quinn and Cam.”

Why did she know those names? Phill had to dig deep to figure out when she'd last heard them because she was fairly certain she didn't know their faces. Well, that wasn't true. She knew Cam's face from the papers that Benjy had ripped into shreds, all five copies that she'd managed to snag. He was every bit as gorgeous in person as he'd been in print. Rebecca always did have the best luck.

But Quinn was a puzzle until Phill finally dug a little deeper in her memory. "Is this _the_ Quinn?" She held out her hand to the girl who still stood behind Cara. "We've never met but it's a pleasure."

The answering handshake was firm but there was no hint on the other girl's face that she was affected by Phill's sly dig. Instead, she turned to Benjy and extended her hand, murmuring her whole name for his benefit since he didn't appear to know her. Phill felt slightly silly having said anything now that she had a chance to regret her words.

There was some kind of contest of wills going on between Benjy and the big man called Camillo, or Cam as Cara called him. While she was willing to step in front of Benjy to protect her partner from a stray spell, and had on a number of occassions, there was no way she was going to step in the middle of this. Instead, she turned her attention back to Cara.

"So, are the rest of the knights here with you? I'm ashamed to say that I lost track of them since leaving school. Gavin sent me a letter a couple of years ago but it took some time getting to me and I figured he wouldn't want a late reply seeing as he wasn't really expecting a reply in the first place." She had to work hard to not blush at how cruel she sounded. Bringing up Gavin never failed at making her relive the guilt of that break up, no matter that it had been years ago. "I used to see Kent from time to time but even those visits have gone to the wayside. But you're looking good. Nice to see you two together."

Cara smiled at Phill and shook his head. He was not surprised that she still held onto the guilt of that time. It had always been obvious to everybody, including Gavin he suspected, that Phill hadn’t meant to hurt him. When it’s not right, it’s not right. There was nothing she could have done differently – Gavin always was the tender-heart of the group. None of that made Phill a terrible person and that was the reason Cara and the others had remained friendly with her even after she and Gavin had spilt up. They were just careful not to flaunt that friendliness in front of the poor broken hearted Gavin.

“Gavin would have loved to have heard from you, Phill. You know that. But I can see your point. I haven’t heard from him since his retirement. Maybe you’d have better luck. I can provide you his new location and you can send him a letter. As for the others, they aren’t here but I still talk regularly with Kent and Rhys.”

“What are your intentions towards my sister, big man?”

Though, thankful for the interruption before questions about Ollie could set his mood black again, Cara would have preferred it hadn’t come in such a hostile tone. With careful movements, he shifted Quinn so that he could trade positions with her. Merlin only knew they were all on edge. Putting himself closer to Cam in case something set his partner off seemed only logical.

Cam wanted to answer. He really did but nothing seemed right. The things he wanted to say weren't appropriate for this situation and this group of people. They were things he only needed to be saying to Rebecca and no one else, not even her brother.

Before he could form the right words, Quinn started talking. While he wished this confrontation could have taken place without an audience, he was glad there was someone to take the heat, even just for a few seconds.

"Does it matter right now?" Quinn asked, her face deceptively bland. "We've got a case to work on. Once we figure out what's going on, you can ask your question again and, if need be, beat him black and blue if you don't like the answer. The one thing that I've discovered about Cam is that he works better when he's not bruised. I need him at his best for the moment."

Benjy watched the woman for a moment and then he laughed. “I'm just asking a question. What makes you think I am going to beat him black and blue? Becks is plenty able to handle herself and I’m not sure if you’ve met Susanne, but the woman can be quite vicious when it comes to her loved ones.” The smile fell from his lips just as quickly as Quinn had put it there. “And yes, it does matter right now. Very much so. Working with new people is always challenging. The animosity between our two organizations only increases those challenges. Add in the fact that this bloke might have intentions to leave my sister broken with a shattered reputation just makes for a match to the proverbial fire.”

He turned and looked at Camillo Figge once again. Of course, just because he knew that Becks could handle herself, didn't mean he wouldn't defend her honor if necessary. “That was some kind of kiss you planted on her and I just want to make sure of your intentions. People don’t normally go around kissing women like that without some intention of pushing the boundaries further.”

Benjy ignored the derisive snort that came from Dearborn. “I’m sure you would want the same information if the situations were reversed, would you not?”

Cam lost the train of conversation as his sister was brought into the conversation. He'd once cared about who she spent time with only because it had affected him directly. The conversation was still clear in his head as if it had happened only moments ago.

 _If I hear that you're hanging out with that crowd that's messing with Quinn, I'll send you back home. Do you understand me? You have your pick of any other friends. Just not those._

The eleven-year old little girl had just smiled up at him with eyes that were far older than they should have been. He had looked at her and barely recognised his little sister. But he'd picked Quinn over Moane that day. And as she threw those words back at him the last day he'd seen her, that was the day he'd given up the chance to be her brother.

"I would never knowingly hurt Rebecca," Cam finally answered, his chest hurting enough that he pulled his hand back to rub at the spot. "I also did what I could to keep that picture out of the news. That's not a moment I would have liked to share with the world. Damn reporter intentionally kept that picture out of the deal."

Benjy glanced at the hand that was suddenly rubbing at Figge’s chest and he frowned. He nodded, an unspoken accord being struck between the two men. “Yes. They can be quite a nuisance. Now you see why she never mentions me in those interviews.” With a small smile, he turned back to Quinn. “You see? That is all I wanted.”

“Good. You’ve met these three already.” Fabian Prewett wedged his way between Cara and Cam. He stuck his hand out to Benjy and then to Phill. “I’m Fabian. Sorry we aren’t meeting under better circumstances, but I’m glad to have your insight. Not tonight however. Tonight I am going to go soak the injuries and have a good long sleep. We’ll start early tomorrow. Just after breakfast.

“Quinn. If you could maybe keep these two from getting into any more jams until then, I’d be eternally grateful. We have a lot to discuss.” With a quick movement, he pushed past Cara and placed a kiss on Quinn’s cheek. “G’night,” he told the group before heading for the door and disappearing around the corner.

“Damn it,” Caradoc muttered. He had wanted to talk to Fabian tonight, but it was clear the other man was not going to be having any of that tonight. He clapped Cam on the shoulder. “C’mon mate. I want to check on Marlene before we turn in.” Not that he had any intentions of going to bed. Instead, he planned on soothing his irritated nerves with a couple of shots of whiskey. Something he wouldn’t be doing while working this damn issue to its end.

He smiled at Phill and Benjy. “Have a nice night,” he said before turning to Quinn. His voice pitched lower as he spoke to her so that his words would only be for her. “I’m going to stay here tonight. If you want to talk or just want some company.” He kissed his fingers and then pressed them to her forehead. “Don’t be stubborn, Q.”

"I'll come by after," Quinn glanced over her shoulder at where the two new people still stood, their heads together in their own private conversation, "I have a nice conversation with your old friend there. Anything you want to tell me first?"

Caradoc raised on brow, glanced at Cam who merely shrugged, and then looked back at Quinn. "Uhh- aside from the fact that she's a nice girl so you should be nice, I can't think of anything relevant." His lips curved into a fond smile. "I think you'll like her, Quinn. And I suppose Fenwick can't be that bad if he's been around Phill for a long time. She's a good judge of character."

He started to move away and then stopped. His expression sobered slightly. "I'm not waiting to crack open a bottle, but we'll wait until you come by to do the toast." With that, he nodded at Fenwick, waved once more to Phill and then left for the infirmary.

Quinn turned back towards Phill and Benjy, waiting for them to finish their conversation before walking closer. "So, have you been given a tour of the Beach House? Do you need to know where anything is?"

"We were given the tour when we arrived." Phill wanted to be polite but her words were clipped as she began to feel raw once again. No matter how she tried to forget or cover up the pain, Rusty's death was still fresh enough that she expected to feel his presence on her other side and was disappointed each time she remembered the truth. Being here, in this place, made her feel both hemmed-in and exposed, all at the same time.

"Oh. Do you need anything? I can see about getting you some food or-"

"We've eaten."

Phill watched as Quinn's eyes narrowed, stripping away the mask she'd been wearing so that her true feelings finally shown through. "Just how do you know Caradoc?"

"I met him at school. Same as you."

"Did you date him?"

"No." It was interesting to see the jealousy creeping into Quinn's eyes. Phill wondered if Quinn was even aware of the feelings that she was showing with not only the question but her glare. "I dated Gavin."

"Gavin didn't date while in school."

"He did after you left."

Quinn's mouth opened but then shut without anything coming out. For a moment, there was a flash of remorse and sorrow and more pain than Phill would have expected from that statement. It was gone before she had a chance to take back the words and, more importantly, the inflection she'd used.

The interaction between the two women confused Benjy. He hadn't really ever heard Phill speak in the tone, which Benjy thought was almost accusatory, she was using as she addressed Quinn O'Mara. At least not when it came to people who were mostly strangers. Of course, it appeared she and Dearborn were friends so perhaps something had happened when they were all in school.

When Quinn didn't immediately respond to Phill's quip about leaving, Benjy drew his gaze from his partner and saw a moment of something he thought might be pain in Quinn's eyes, but then it was gone and the woman's expression seemed closed. He wouldn't understand women no matter how much he tried.

He cleared his throat. "Perhaps we ought to be going, Phill. It's been a long day for everybody and I know I could really use some rest." He put his hand on the small of Phill's back and smiled at Quinn. "Thank you for seeing to us, Quinn. May I call you Quinn?" When she nodded, he continued, "Great. We are sorry for your losses and we'll do everything we can to help get things sorted."

Just as they started walking away, Quinn reached out and grabbed Phill's arm. It took a moment before she could get the words out, her heart clogging her throats.

"You called them knights." She swallowed, trying to find enough air to breathe in the room that was suddenly closing in on her. "So you must have known them all well. And if Gavin trusted you enough to date you then... thank you. I worried about them but they were in good hands."

"You left behind four broken boys when you left. Well, three bruised and one broken. But he's found you again so...." Phill's brain finally started working again as she remembered Cara shaking his head. Cara and Quinn weren't together even though they were back in the same place. That made her more sad than she'd been when Gavin had first told her the story. She pulled the other girl into a hug. At first Quinn was stiff in her embrace but when she realized that Phill wasn't letting her go right away, she softened.

"I'll meet you tomorrow morning for breakfast," Quinn whispered, pulling out of the hug before Phill was quite ready to let her go. She looked better than she had so Phill didn't feel as guilty for bringing up a painful reminder of the past. "We can talk about our next move."

Ah, Benjy thought. So that was the reason for the odd tone that had come from his partner. She had gone into protective mode over Caradoc Dearborn. She had once referred to a contact they'd used as a knight but she had never really expounded on what that meant except to say that it was a name given to a group of her friends from school by somebody the boys were once close with and then it had become clear that the subject wasn't open for discussion. He had never pushed her as he honestly didn't care that much. She had shared the pertinent information and Hollen had turned out to be quite helpful. Those were the only things that had mattered to him.

Before Benjy could think any further on the whys of Phill's emotions, his longtime friend had pulled Quinn into an embrace. _Great. Because it wasn't already awkward enough._ He frowned and shifted his weight slightly as he waited for the exchange to be completed. He suddenly felt like a true interloper and tried to focus his gaze on the doorway instead of on the two women.

When Quinn pulled away, Benjy offered a smile even though the woman didn't really spare him a glance before she disappeared through the archway. With a sigh, Benjy reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Now that whatever that was is settled, can we please go to bed?"

Phill slugged her partner in the arm before slipping her hand in his. "What? I had to watch while you manhandled Cam. Least you could do was keep quiet while the girls worked out their differences."

Now that he'd brought it up, she was tired. It had been a long day. No, a long week. She hoped tonight, maybe, she'd be able to sleep all the way through until dawn without having to flee from dreams full of white light and overwhelming noise. Tomorrow they'd start work on finding who had done this and she could have the revenge that she needed so that she could start to heal.


	9. Toast to the Fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our team dulls the pain of loss with an ages-old tradition.

It had been awhile since Cam had let himself drink to excess. One or two drinks and he'd change to water for the rest of the evening. Now he didn't much care how many he ended up drinking if it meant this day could finally be over. The last thing he wanted to do was to bring up thoughts of his time with Rebecca when they would only get tarnished with everything else that had happened after he left her.

"We waiting for Q to get here before we begin in earnest?" he asked as he took he lowered himself to the floor beside the small bed. While he could have taken one of the chairs across the room, he wanted to be in better position for refills. "Or can I get a few early rounds in while we wait?"

It wasn’t often that Cara stayed at the Beach House, but he always kept his room well stocked with a multitude of liquor. If Gideon ever looked in this cabinet, he would probably grow concerned that his troop was some kind of lush. The thought made Caradoc chuckle as he selected several bottles and set them on the cabinet's top. He used his wand to rinse out the three glasses he took out next and then, in answer to Cam’s question, he held up two of the bottles to his partner. The other man pointed to the left, as Cara thought he would but it always seemed appropriate to give the option. He poured an ounce of the liquor into one of the glasses and then repeated the procedure with the second glass. He set the bottle of Quinn’s favorite punishment of choice next to the third glass, tucked the whiskey he and Cam would be drinking from under his arm and picked up both the full glasses. He handed one to Cam and then sank down next to the other man.

“Only waiting for the toast. She’ll have to play catch up,” he said saluting his friend with the glass before tipping the drink back. Without pausing, he refilled both glasses and then set the bottle between them on the floor. He glanced at Cam as he took this drink more slowly than the first. He knew what was going through Cam’s head but he didn’t have words to soothe the raw spots Benjy Fenwick had unwittingly exposed. Moane was a topic that never failed to send Cam into a dark place in his mind and rarely did the words Cara had told him over the years help to bring him out of that place.

“I hope Quinn is behaving,” he said instead of broaching the subject of Moane. Cara slouched a little lower so that he could lay his head on the bed. Quinn could be awfully protective of her knights and Phill was quite obviously still sensitive about Gavin. Perhaps he shouldn’t have left them alone…

"I doubt she's going to do anything stupid. She's not that sort of girl. You know well enough that she comes at problems from the side instead of head on." Cam took a drink, letting the alcohol slide down his throat, the fire burning away the first layer of pain and irritation from the day. "We need to worry more about her tomorrow than tonight. She has to sleep on it. We'll just make sure she doesn't sleep."

“Easier said than done,” Cara muttered, watching the liquid swirl around in his glass as he rotated his wrist. He took another drink and closed his eyes. “Benjy seemed nice enough, though. At least he didn’t seem to want to string you up by your favorite parts like Susanne did.” He laughed lightly as his thoughts turned back to his conversation with the tough woman. When his thoughts inevitably travelled from her lips moving in conversation to them moving over his body, Cara had to down the rest of the drink to keep from groaning. When he had poured a third one, he added, “You really made an impression on her.”

"Right. Just the sort of impression I wanted to make, I'm sure." He took the bottle from beside Cara and poured himself a double measure. Why get drunk slowly when he could do it in half the time. "On both the friend and the brother. This was piss poor timing, though. If I'm not being blown up, I'm being photographed. Neither of those can possibly be good. Then I meet the girl who I think might just be the most perfect girl I've ever met and I have the unfortunate luck to meet her brother before I have a really good chance to make a decent impression. I'm fairly certain I told Rebecca all about that summer I got gangrene. Yeah, she'll be knocking down doors to see me again."

Caradoc laughed. "I'm quite positive she'll be wanting to see you again. I've seen that look." He dreaded that look, actually. It meant he had somehow misread the situation earlier in the evening and now it was too late to take back the actions. "Maybe meeting Benjy is a blessing. He didn't seem too put out with you. Perhaps he can counter whatever bad feelings Susanne has toward you."

He shifted so that he could push himself up and onto the bed. After summoning a pillow from the chair across the room, he leaned back against the wall and brought his legs up to rest his arms on his knees. "Besides, if you take Susanne at her word, you made quite the impression on the beautiful Miss Fenwick last night. And she doesn't really strike me as the kind to give into whatever feelings others might have about you. Though, what do I know? I've only ever read about her." He stretched out one leg and tapped his partner's head with his foot. "Maybe if you're very very nice to me, I'll work my charm on Susanne as well. In no time at all, she'll be your biggest fan."

Cam turned his head to glare at his partner and best friend with one eye. "As long as that charm is only directed at Susanne. You turn any of that charm in Rebecca's direction and I'll be forced to mess up that pretty face of yours. Cause every time we try that idea, it back fires and you have two girls to go home with and I'm stuck with the check."

There was a knock on the door. No, there was a knock at the wall next to the door. Cam thought maybe the alcohol was already messing with his perception.

Cara’s smirk at his mate’s wisecrack faltered slightly as the rap echoed through his room. He turned toward the entrance to his room wondering why the sound hadn’t come through the door as was normal for a request to enter a room. He opened his mouth, but it was Cam’s voice that rang out.

"Doors unlocked, Q," he called out, not at all interested in getting up.

"I know," came the strangled reply. "Be right in."

"Merlin, I hope that means she's crying," he growled, keeping his voice low enough so that it didn't carry much further than Cara. "If she tries to hold all this in again, we're going to be stuck with crazy Quinn. I don't like crazy Quinn. I like Quinn with her head on her shoulders and ready to fight. When did she start thinking she needed to hold in her emotions like this?"

"Holding her emotoins in?" Caradoc asked. "What do you mean? She hauled off and slapped me this afternoon because she was scared. That's not much of holding back if you ask me." He kept the fact that Quinn hadn't had much opportunity for expressing her emotions lately because of all the new people they kept finding themselves in the company of. That was neither here nor there and wouldn't really serve any purpose to voice. "Besides, she'll be right by tomorrow when we need her to be."

When Quinn still hadn't come in the room, Cara called out, "Bloody hell, Quinn. It's open. Come in for Circe's sake. Do you need help or something?"

A string of Gaelic curses accompanied Quinn as she entered the room, her eyes tinged with red that meant she had been crying in the hall just now. She was using the sleeve of her shirt to wipe at her cheeks but most of the evidence was long gone. It hadn't been anything but a few tears, Cam figured, and nothing that a few drinks wouldn't take care of. Or some sleep. They could all use some of that.

But not right now. Right now was for drinking.

"Grab a glass, Quinn. You're behind." He patted the floor beside him. "Might as well get comfortable. We're going to be here awhile."

She grabbed her bottle but left the glass behind. Instead of settling down next to Cam, she toed off her shoes and curled up on the foot of the bed, near to both of the men but not seeking comfort from either.

"Shall I start?" she asked, her voice muffled as she cradled her head in the crook of her arm. "Or are one of you feeling especially verbose tonight?"

Caradoc watched her closely as she grabbed only the bottle and then curled up on his bed. Now that they were alone, Cam's words a few moments ago came back to him and he comprehension dawned on him. She was hiding her emotions from them as well. He had not thought her actions odd when they were in the pub or with the rest of the members of The Group. But why hide them now when it was just he and Cam. Why choose to stay in the hallway and let those emotions creep in when the safety and privacy of Cara's room was within sight?

With a frown, Caradoc dragged his eyes from her face and scooted to the edge of the bed. He topped off his shot and then tipped the glass in her direction. "I'm not sure anybody has ever described Cam as verbose." As he settled into a comfortable position, he met Quinn's eyes. "You start us off and I'll finish it with the usual."

Quinn was silent for a moment, sorting her thoughts. There were a lot of them to filter through at the moment but she pushed everything else to the side so that she was only thinking about Foster and Hayes. When she'd finally found the right words, she pushed herself upright and lifted the bottle.

"Walter Hayes never had a nice word to say about anyone but he always told the truth. You always knew exactly where you stood with the man. Somewhere out there is a little girl who has his dark eyes and horribly unkempt hair and I can only hope that someday someone tells her just how important her Da was to this world."

She had to compose herself again as she thought about Foster. He'd been one of her only friends outside of this small group of three. It was hard to think that she wasn't going to ever hear his annoying laugh ever again.

"And Stephen Foster had a terrible sense of fashion but he was the best damn potion brewer I'd ever seen. Here's hoping that houndstooth blazer never sees the light of day but that someone can decipher his tiny handwriting so those recipes don't get lost to time."

When Quinn’s composure threatened to crumble, it took a concerted effort for Caradoc to keep his glass in the air and body still. A part of him wanted to seek physical comfort from his two best friends, but his pride would not allow him that luxory. Losing one of their own was always difficult and this was no exception, espeically given the circumstances surrounding their discovery. Though Hayes had never been Cara’s biggest fan, the older man had been a good fighter and somebody Cara wouldn’t have had issue going into a duel with. He might have been a surly man, but he was loyal and strong and damn good at what he did. Stephen; however, had been a friend to each of them. It might have started because the man had always been so good to Quinn, but it had quickly grown to stand on its own because Stephan Foster was a good man who loved life and his friends. Cara shared a glance with Cam and had to swallow thickly as he forced his gaze back to Quinn. When she continued, he nodded and a small smile crept upon his lips.

As her words drifted off, Cara raised his glass higher and repeated the words that ended each of these depressing toasts. Gideon had once told him that he had pulled from some of his favorite poets but thought each of the lines were fitting to those they wished to honor.

“Here’s to those we've drunk with. But never can again.”

The glasses and the bottle rose higher in the air and then each of them took a drink.

“Although no sculptured marble should rise to their memory, nor engraved stone bear record of their deeds, yet will their remembrance be as lasting as the land they honored."

Another drink.

“Who kept the faith and fought the fight; the glory theirs, the duty ours.”

With a final raising of the glasses and bottle, Caradoc and Cam finished their drinks and Quinn took a hearty pull from her own. They were silent as the tumblers were refilled and they each returned to their various positions.

It was hard to drink curled up on the bed like this but Quinn didn't have much interest in getting rip-roaring drunk tonight of all nights. She felt raw, stripped bare of any of her defenses. In one day, she had gone from high to low and back again, over and over again. At this point, she wasn't sure if she should be cracking jokes or crying. Cam and Cara were alive but now they'd lost Hayes and Foster. She'd given Cam grief about his new relationship right before helping that same new relationship grow a little stronger.

Bollucks, but Cam had better have done his part because she'd spent a night playing darts while waiting for Cara to come back from wherever he was with a woman who she'd known on first sight would be the one he'd pick to spend time with. It had been like salt on a wound to find that he was on more than first name basis with Phill. Try as she might, there was always a part of Cara's life she wasn't allowed to share.

The urge was so strong to open her mouth and ask "Why can't you pick me?" that she had to take a deep pull from the bottle to give her brain a chance to catch up with what her mouth wanted to do. Drinking on a night like this wasn't a good idea but it was tradition and she needed the familiarity right now. She needed this time with Cam and Cara more than she needed to cry or indulge in self-pity.

"Wanna a play-by-play of the match?" she asked, her mouth turning up into the first real smile she'd worn all night long.

"Of course." Cam leaned his head back so that he could see Quinn's face only inches from his in the position she'd chosen. "Thought you'd never offer."

"You have it so bad." The giggle escaped before she could stop it. "It's almost too adorable to bear to watch the two of you together. Yes, you heard me. Adorable. I'll use the word again."

"Enough! Just tell me about the match."

She capped the bottle, cradling it against her chest as she pulled all the good bits from her memory to share. Since she'd gone to the game knowing she'd have to do something just like this, Quinn had been prepared to remember all the interesting things that had happened.

Caradoc laughed as Quinn began her narrative from the match. He crossed his legs at the ankles and closed his eyes as her voice lulled him into a more relaxed state. In his mind’s eye, he saw the match in perfect replay as he listened to Quinn’s account. Or at least, the parts she found most interesting, which given Quinn’s enthusiasm for the game were the parts that mattered anyway.

As she described the moment the two Beaters had worked together, Cara couldn’t stifle the rumble that came from his chest. “I can imagine that every bloke in the house found that a spectacular sight.” How had he never seen the Harpies play in person? He’d seen nearly every other team, yet never the Harpies. “A shame,” he murmured and then opened his eyes to find both sets of eyes on him.

“What?” he asked, shrugging off the scrutiny. “She’s off limits, that doesn’t make me blind. I’m just saying that I can imagine the two of them working perfectly together. Oh stop looking at me like that you great grump. I’m sure women around the world would think the same of you and me if they were ever able to see our teamwork.” His lips curved into a smirk as he polished off the rest of his drink.

"Well, as much as that _is_ a thing of beauty," Quinn drawled, split over whether she wanted to growl or giggle again, "I think we should do the females of the world a favour and keep them in the dark for a bit longer. You two already get enough glances when we walk down the street as it is. Cam's sure to get even more looks after those pictures in that rag."

While Quinn couldn't see Cam's face, she could imagine the thundercloud that hovered in his eyes. She wondered if Rebecca realized just how off-limits she was and how she'd react to that news. To anyone else, it might have seemed like a quick fall into love but that was the sort of person Cam was. When he fell, he fell hard and quick and it was forever. She would have to do what she could do protect his heart from his own actions.

"I'll rearrange that face," he muttered before going back to drinking in earnest again.

She caught Cara's eye and frowned her question instead of asking it. "Tell me about Frankfurt. You didn't have time before you left for Geneva," and wasn't she proud of only that slight hitch in her voice, "so I haven't heard any of what you did there."

Caradoc shook his head. "Settle down lover boy. I'm not after your pretty Quiddicth bird," he said, shifting so that he could lie down, his head next to Quinn's knees. He had to reach underneath him before he could truly get comfortable as the movement caused his glass to tilt and roll into the most unfortunate of places. With perfect accuracy, he rolled the vessel until is hit Cam's temple. "Besides, you'd miss my pretty features just as they are," he said in answer to the scowl that came his way.

He turned his smile to Quinn. "Don't play coy with me, Quinn O'Mara. You know everything about every mission. If there was anything of interest, we'd have shared it even though you probably would have already known it." He really was amazed at the information Quinn managed to get her hands on. "Frankfurt was as it always is. Full of good ale, good amusement, and Bethmannchen."

Though, because she had asked and because she obviously needed the distraction, Caradoc launched into a recap of the week's events. He left out the ways that they obtained the information they needed.

"After two carafes of Apfelwein, the Minister's aide couldn't help but tell us about the delegation that was looking to buy out half of the Stadel's underground storage facility. Unfortunately, it's not going to be a place Black uses for anything we might be interested in. All the same, we placed a charm on the paperwork to allow Roben and her team the time to go in and make the necessary adjustments to the facility." He nudged the glass into Cam's temple again. "Speaking of Apfelwein, I'm going to need you to bone up on your drinking skills mate. You know I hate that stuff."

"Ah, the hazards of wining and dining the Germans." Quinn stretched her leg out so that she could awkwardly hit Cara in the back with her foot. "I'm assuming Adelle was her wonderful self, all full of sunshine and light? If she wasn't so useful in getting information, I would think that Gideon would be the first in line to see her thrown under a bus. Or, since it's Europe, maybe one of those nice, high speed trains. That's a nice image."

He chuckled again. "Adelle is very sweet, Quinn," he said as he rolled, trapping her leg beneath him. "And she thinks quite highly of you." Though, even Caradoc could admit that sometimes it was tiresome to have to deal with the German woman. She wasn't the brightest of their contacts but she always proved to be extremely useful. And she wasn't exactly hard on the eyes either.

"She thinks highly of me because I've saved her arse on several occasions and she knows that if she tried even once looking cross-eyed at me, I'd have her kicked out of the Group so fast she wouldn't have time to cast a packing spell to get all of her junk out of that office." She wigged her toes against the worn material of his shirt, not trying to move them other than to annoy him. "Here's hoping that Gideon can be convinced to only get ugly women to work for him when we set up the new office next month. I really hate having to convince these women that it's not going to get them any closer to you by becoming friends with me."

Cam snorted but kept silent. Considering he was several glasses ahead of even Cara, he might not have had the ability to put together all the words to complete his thought. She figured he would be snoring on the floor soon.

Cara let out a deep breath, releasing his full weight onto her foot. "He can hire ugly women all he wants, Quinny, but if I have to charm information out of them, I'm going to insure you have to start schmoozing the hairiest blokes around." With a quick movement, Caradoc flipped over and caught her beneath him. He smiled down at her. "Fair play, after all. Besides, as long as you're not chasing after the likes of Lucius Malfoy, I'd help you by letting them get chummy with me." In fact, if Quinn ever did start dating in earnest, he'd prefer to keep the blokes close. It lulled them into a sense of false security and allowed him to keep better track of their intentions. He kissed her nose before rolling off of her again and taking the bottle from Cam's hand. "Damn, mate. I suppose I ought to have been paying more attention to you. Where'd all the bloody whiskey go?" He used his foot to flip his own glass closer and then filled it and drained the shot. "If you're not ready to pass out, there's more in the cabinet."

"Just waiting for the two of you to finish complaining," the big man muttered, sounding a lot more sober than the bottle said he should have been. Quinn had always been jealous of how well he could hold his liquor, only because she couldn't hold any at all. She already felt more than a little lightheaded after only a few swallows.

She pulled at one of the dreadlocks lying on the bed. "What about you, Camillo? Would you befriend a boy I was dating?"

"You'd have to date one for me to decide that."

Her sound of outrage only made both of them laugh and, for a moment, she couldn't decide if that was the sound she wanted to hear from them in response to this question. Her body was still buzzing from where he had touched her and the tip of her nose was numb. "I date. I date a lot compared to some people. Not nearly as much as Cara but quite a bit. As a matter of fact, I went on a date not two weeks ago. He was gorgeous. Eyes like a summer storm."

Cam turned to look at her. "What was his name?"

She spluttered a bit, thinking furiously through the list of names that might be connected with the picture in her head. Finally, she had to admit defeat. And he hadn't been gorgeous. He'd been boring and had talked about his job like it was the most exciting thing in the whole world when she found the very idea of being in finance to be slightly nauseating.

"I'm not going to tell you his name. You'll just look him up and make his life miserable. I know you two."

"You don't remember his name."

"It's... Jack. His name is Jack." But she was pretty sure it hadn't been Jack.

Caradoc snorted. “Sure it is,” he muttered as he fell back onto the bed. He nudged her leg with his head until she moved it back slightly so that he could put his head next to her body. “Will you be seeing this _Jack_ again?” There was no reason to push the topic, he knew, as he wasn’t even the slightest bit concerned that she would be meeting this man for dinner or any other social occasion. Quinn had a mind for details which meant that she didn’t just forget people’s names. Clearly this bloke whose name he was positive wasn’t Jack hadn’t kept her attention. “Since he seems to have made such a lasting impression and all.”

"He was a very nice man," she said with all the conviction she could muster. Unfortunately, it just wasn't in her to lie at the moment. Alcohol always made her unable to say anything but the truth which is why she didn't drink much these days. "Just not nice enough. Or maybe he was too nice. I don't know anymore."

She rolled onto her back, her arm flung over her face. "This is why I don't date. It's so pointless."

Cara reached over his head and patted her leg. “It’s not pointless, love. You’re just not dating the right type of bloke is all.” If it had been anybody else, he would suggest she do less traditional dating and invest more in activities that proved more entertaining. However, the very idea of Quinn engaging in the types of activities he chose to fill his time with made want to growl. And maybe hit something.

“What you need is somebody with a sense of adventure who might take you cliff diving or hiking. Not somebody who thinks that wining and dining you in a stuffy restaurant is the way to your heart.” His hand stilled, but he left it where it was settled on her leg. “He’s out there just waiting for you to find him, I’m sure.”

He glanced over at the top of Cam’s head and smiled. “Are you awake, mate?”

"Just barely," came the quiet words, spoken as if he was more asleep than awake. "Easier to be asleep than to try to help Quinn find the perfect man. I'm never much help."

"If I remember correctly, the last time you tried to help me with my dating situation, I ended up going out with Malcolm." She turned back to her side again, her pensive look replaced with a huge smile. "That was a nice couple of dates. Too bad he ended up having a wife."

"Like I said, not much help."

Quinn reached out grab the soft part of Cam's ear, tugging at it until he turned his head toward her. "You didn't know. The guy was a first-class liar. I think that's what I liked the most about him. He could weave a story about nearly anything and make you believe it. Like I said, it was a nice couple of dates. A good distraction."

Caradoc groaned. Malcolm the liar had snowed everybody. It was a wonder his wife was still with him. Even after the photograph of Malcolm and a gorgeous blonde had found its way to Doreen's hands. Though, as had been pointed out, Malcolm had probably spun a brilliant story about why the half-naked woman's legs were wrapped around his bare torso. He'd have hexed the rotten cheating snake if Quinn had been more put out by the situation. But in true Quinn form, she had been more upset _for_ the wife than of the snake's deception of her.

"What about that nice bloke over in Bristol. What was his name? Charles? Chuck? The one that worked with magical creatures. He seemed like he could entertain you well enough." And Cara could crush him like a dead leaf if the need arose. That always made Cara like a potential suitor for Quinn better.

"Just Call Me Chaz?" Quinn nearly choked on the name of the man she'd had to endure three dates with, one of them including these two men and their equally unimpressive dates. "You thought he was entertaining? Thanks to Just Call Me Chaz I now know about the mating rituals of most of the animals in the Beastuary. Do you think I appreciate that information? That was torture at its finest. I talked with Gideon about putting that bloke on the payroll. He'd be a valuable asset when we had someone that refused to give up information. As a date, though, he wasn't any good at all."

She set up, leaning over so that Cara's face was directly below hers. "Face it, Cara. I am not going to find the man of my dreams from a list compiled of everyone's nephew or best friend's second cousin. He'll just... I don't know... drop in my lap one day."

"Chaz," he laughed. "Yes, him. He amused me a great deal. Besides, now I have useful information regarding these mating rituals." Cara grinned up at her. "Whenever Gideon needs me to use my considerable charms to get him information and I am struggling to get there, I pull that little trivia point out of my pocket and it moves things along nicely."

He reached up and tapped her nose before rolling to his side and holding his arm in the air in invitation. "And until this man falls into your lap, you'll have to be content with the two of us. A pity for you, I'm sure."

"Quite the pity," she whispered, struggling for the slightest second against the inevitable. There was no way she could turn down an invitation to be able to pretend that she had the one man she really wanted instead of trying to reinvent him over and over again in the men that were thrown at her on these disastrous dates.

Of course, a part of her was irritated beyond belief when she snuggled up against him. She spent every hour of every day trying to get past the feelings she had for Caradoc Dearborn but when he offered these chances, she took them with very little hesitation. But these moments came at a price that she would pay for days after, her dreams turning into nightmares as she relived her past with unaltered clarity, each and every choice taunting her with the _what ifs_.

There was a new twist on those memories of the past tonight and she needed to know Cara's side of events so they were in the proper perspective. "Who is Phill to you?" she asked when her heartbeat finally matched his. "How does she know the Knights?"

It wasn’t the conversation he had thought she would initiate and it took him a moment to collect his thoughts so that his words didn’t turn Quinn cold and stiff in his arms. Phill was a friend, but he hadn’t always looked at her that way. At one time, he had noticed her for more than just a girl in the same House. She was feisty and full of fun and when she smiled, her eyes lit with a mischief he had thought would be fun to explore. The timing was rot though, as he had been seeing Hestia at that time Phillipa Hartsel had come into his radar zone. Hestia was a sweet girl and just as fun and free-spirited and he had been a one-woman sort of guy back then. And then Quinn had left and his whole world had shattered and by the time he had put the new Cara back together, Gavin was head over heels in love with Phill.

“Phill is a friend,” he finally said, stroking her hair from the top of her head down and over her shoulders. “At one point, I would have said she is off-limits. Gavin was so over the top in love with her and that was one of the only rules we had amongst ourselves. You don’t poach your mates girls." Cara shifted his leg so that he could nudge Cam's head just to make sure the other man remembered that Cara still had some honor when it came to women. He chuckled at the man's barely there grunt. "Even if it's one-sided, as the case often was. Now, I would say she’s likely an ally with the fortunate benefit of having been close with her in the past. It makes it easier to work with people you already know and trust.”

He turned his head toward hers, his hand still moving slowly over her hair. “She knows the Knights because she and Gavin dated. It wasn’t serious on her part, but you know our Gav. He falls hard and fast and in the short time that it took Phill to realize it wasn’t working, Gavin was hooked. We all liked Phill. While they were together, we all spent a lot of time together. She’s a nice girl and she tried hard not to break Gav’s heart but it was inevitable. Everybody, even Gavin I’m sure, could see it wasn’t right. We remained friends after they split but we weren’t as overt about it so that it didn’t hurt Gavin.” His hand stilled for a moment before resuming its slow pattern again. “Not that we hid it from him, he knew, but we didn’t flaunt it. I guess that’s what I mean.”

With a gentle tug on the end of a handful of hair, he asked, “Didn’t you already interrogate her? I thought you would have wrangled all of this out of her.” Though, perhaps because of her guilt, Phill wasn’t as forthcoming as Cara had been. He frowned, though for nobody’s benefit but his own. “You weren’t too hard on her, were you? From the look she gave me when she mentioned him, she seems to still be carrying some guilt with her.”

"I just...." What? Wanted to make sure they both told the same story? Wanted to make sure _he_ told the same story? There was nothing there that should have made either of them lie to her so why did she need the story from both parties? It certainly didn't make her feel any better. Knowing Phill's story was real only made all her guilt, remorse and pain sharper and more overt but she was nothing if not skilled at pushing all those harsh feelings down deep. That was how she survived.

"It's hard not to be polite to her. She seemed nice from our ten minute conversation. While I may not know all the ins and outs of the females I come into contact with, I am still a good judge of character. If Gavin liked her, she must be good people."

He chuckled and stopped his stroking of her hair, his hand falling to rest on her shoulder. “She is good people,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “And you should trust my instincts more. I’m an excellent judge of character as well.” With one glaring exception. His body stiffened for a moment and he instinctively held her tighter against him as Ollie crossed his mind. "At least when it comes to women," he added, though his voice was rough from the agitation and a touch of regret and sadness his former friend's betrayal always stirred up.

"I do trust your instincts," she replied with a trace of humour that hadn't been there a few minutes ago. Her body was requesting that she quit trying to move around and talk quite so much so she snuggled closer, clutching fistfuls of his shirt to anchor her there. "But only for women. You're crap at the male of the species. That's why we make sure a good team. I know men. You know women." She yawned so wide that her jaw cracked. "Ta-da," she whispered, trying to keep her eyes open.

He could only nod as he didn't trust his voice not to betray his emotions. Her words stung the already raw wound he had just reopened. When he thought he had been silent for too long, Caradoc finally mustered the strength to whisper, “Not a good team, the best team.”

When she didn’t respond, he smiled and began stroking her hair again until he felt her body sink lower into the bed. A moment later, Cam’s body tilted until it disappeared. Cara used his foot to nudge the afghan blanket down to his best mate. One hand came up in a lazy salute and then the rustling on the floor stopped.

When both sets of breathing evened out, Cara sighed. He lifted up just enough so that he could kiss Quinn’s temple. “My eyes are open now, Quinn,” he whispered. “I’ll never misjudge another when it comes to you.” He settled back to his former position and closed his eyes, praying sleep would find him and not be accompanied by the nightmares the past always brought to light.


	10. Somehow We Will Hold On

It was lonely being in a house whose occupant wasn't coming back. Quinn had done her share of sneaking in and out of buildings that housed all sorts of things but there was nothing that felt as empty as a house without an owner. She'd asked specifically to be part of the group that went to Foster's house, wanting to say good bye to him one last time amoung the items that had known him best. It had turned out that his rooms were fairly empty, filled with very little that she would have thought that Foster collected.

While Fabian, Cara and Phill looked around for the evidence they were looking for, she began going through the various papers and books that lined several of the shelves. She wasn't sure what she was looking for but her curiosity got the best of her. Better that she stay busy instead of getting in the way of the others. Nearly an hour later, she was wondering if that curiosity hadn't been a gut feeling that she was glad she listened to instead of thinking it was nothing but maudlin speculation.

When she heard footsteps coming back into the front room from the the back of the house, she called out, "Cara? Come here, would you?"

He popped his head through the door, a questioning look creasing his forehead and accenting the tired lines around his eyes. She wondered if she looked as tired as he did because she certainly felt it. No one had slept much since that night when they'd all fallen into a drunken stupor, fueled by alcohol and pain. This was an investigation that kept growing with every new piece of information they found.

"Was Foster dating anyone? Last I knew, he had laughing sworn off women after the way that Laura broke his heart. Was he seeing anyone new?"

The last few days had been taxing. They always were when it was this personal. Going through the personal belongings and last hours of his dead comrades was never easy work but couple that with the unease he felt with regard to Marlene’s situation and it made for an irritable mix of emotions that stole the precious hours Caradoc should have been using for sleep. Throw in the lack of any true information and he was ready to explode. Everything they had discovered thus far seemed to lead them on a never-ending path that didn’t actually seem to end in a destination. Again, something he should have been used to.

It was the lack of sleep, he told himself as he walked over to Quinn. “Not that I know of," he said as he walked over to Quinn. As far as anyone knew, Foster hadn’t dated in eighteen months. Cara had always suspected that was because the man never could work up the nerve to cross the line and ask the one person he truly wanted to. Foster had done an admirable job of hiding his desires and keeping it professional, but Cara knew the signs. After all, he had been in the man’s shoes once upon a time. But that was a long time ago. It almost seemed to belong in a different life. He certainly was a different person.

Of course, Foster was one bloke Caradoc would have supported Quinn dating. He would have taken proper care of her. A possibility that would remain forever unexplored now. Another reason to mourn his death.

"What have you found?"

Quinn taped her teeth with her thumb nail as she tried to figure out what exactly she had. The problem was that she still wasn't sure exactly what it was that she was looking at. There was something in this pile of papers that meant something, though. She could feel it even if she couldn't quite pull it all together to prove those feelings.

Right now, all she could do was talk out the feeling. "Foster and Hayes spent as much time together as... well, you and Cam. They were partners and friends. Foster did potions and Hayes did herbology. They were two peas in a pod. The only reason they went out without the other was if there was a female involved."

She held up a palm-sized notebook. "Foster liked to take notes when an idea would hit him. He has a code that I don't quite understand but I found some symbols that correspond with some strange symbols on his calendar. I found a similar calendar with the papers in the room Hayes uses... used at the Beach House. This symbol here," she opened up the notebook to the page she was talking about and pointed out the squiggle that looked very similar to a Greek Psi, "is on Foster's calendar but not Hayes'. Foster uses it in the title of what I'm assuming are recipes or bits of recipes. I'll need to take this to Dorcas and see if she can break the code for me. Foster was abnormally proud of his code. It's not one that I've ever been able to break. He found great delight in taunting me with that fact."

Caradoc leaned over her shoulder and peered down at the odd little doodles in the notebook. He frowned as Quinn's explanation ended. Waiting was not his strong suit, especially when it came to situations like the one they found themselves in now. He wanted answers that made sense in the here and now and would provide him with the path towards closure for his fallen teammates. He did not want to wait for Dorcas Meadows to work through whatever crazy code Foster liked to use.

"Why the bloody hell did he need a code," Caradoc muttered as he paced away from Quinn and then back. "When will you be able to reach Dorcas? She didn't leave the school last night for the meeting." Which, now that he thought about it was strange. Every team member had been there last night save for the Hogwart's librarian. Seemed an odd time for her to be absent.

Caradoc brought his hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to squeeze away the pressure building behind his eyes. After a few deep breaths, he said, "Has Dorcas seen this in the past? Do you think she'll be able to break Foster's crazy code quickly?"

"She's cracked every other code we've ever given her," Quinn responded, distracted by the consistency of the one symbol over and over again. It was important and she, like Cara, ached to know what it was _now_ instead of having to wait. Seeing it like this, scattered on all the pages like a decoration, made her feel like she should know what it meant already. If it had been this important to Foster, it must be a link to why he died. So did that make it good or bad?

When the squiggles began to waver about the page, she laid the book back down on the stack of papers that she'd gathered to bring back to the Beach House. She couldn't tell if they were important but it was better to keep them so they didn't get lost when the house was cleansed.

"I don't know where she was last night but Gideon contacted her about Marlene. I guess the two of them were friends in school. If she hasn't come in yet then... has anyone heard about how things are going at the school?" The thought of that place didn't make her visibly shudder but her stomach still knotted up until she sure she wouldn't be able to eat for the rest of the day. "Maybe this is one of those situations we've always talked about, the kind of thing where she might finally need some backup even if she doesn't really think she needs it."

That was true; the woman was a damn genius. He was always a bit amazed at the way her mind could make sense of something nobody else could. In a lot of ways, she reminded him of Quinn. "Maybe it is. I certainly hope not, though. We have our hands full as it is with people." Caradoc sighed, shook his head, and then stalked back over to where Quinn was standing. He took out his wand and tapped one of the empty drawers sitting on the desk. When it had finished morphing into a suitable carrying case, he gently placed all of the papers and books Quinn had stacked into it and sealed it up.

"I think we're done here. Let's do a final sweep and then we can go. I need something to eat." He gathered up the case and then turned toward the door. When Quinn's form didn't move with his, he turned back to find her looking around the room. For once, he couldn't determine the expression on her face. He stopped and placed a hand under elbow. "I can do the sweep, but you're better at seeing the little things I might overlook. You can take some time after that if you need," he said softly.

Quinn let out a breath. "No, I'm fine. It just... feels... wrong. We're supposed to go out in a blaze of glory, you know? Not be found on a door step like a lost doll. I don't know what they were doing or why but it feels wrong. Whatever they were doing," but she didn't finish the sentence. She shook her head as if to rid herself of the bad feelings before looking up at him with a small smile. "You do look like you're going to waste away to nothing if we don't get you to food soon. Let's get this done."

In a matter of minutes, they were done with their sweep and working their way back to the safety of the Beach House. Cam's team was there waiting for them, their somber faces giving away little as they ate in silence. When she sat down, he held up a similar looking case. "We found a few things that looked important. Did you find anything?"

Quinn lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "A few things." She poured out some sugar on the table and drew the symbol they'd found. "Did you find anything with this on it?"

Cam shook his head but Phill leaned forward to see what it was that she had drawn. "I saw it a couple of times on some papers. Thought it was a doodle. Is it important?"

"I don't know. I'm going to go take these to Gideon and see if he can't get them to Dorcas tonight." She grabbed up Cam's case. "Go ahead and eat without me. I'll grab something later."

Benjy watched Quinn go before he began sizing up the food that Arabella had quietly slid in front of him before disappearing from the kitchen. The moment that Dearborn started devouring the chicken pieces on his own plate, Benjy joined in, cleaning the bones of two legs before he caught Phill's eye. Without a word, they agreed to meet later to discuss what the other had discovered and their thoughts on the mechanics of The Group. It had become a ritual of sorts to end their day this way and though it was small and quick, it gave him some comfort in these difficult days. Phill was the only sense of normalcy Benjy had at the moment and he found himself agitated when they were separated. And going through a dead man's belongings had stirred up too many emotions regarding Rusty's death. The man these people called Foster had kept his home empty of so many of things that defined a person outside of their profession just as Rusty had. It had been like going through Rusty's home all over again, without the strength Phill lent him on a daily basis.

When his partner left the room, the conversation from the only other occupants ceased. A moment later, Figge left with a nod to Benjy and then Dearborn stood. He sent all of the dishes to the sink and began filling the basin with water. Benjy brought his own plate over. "We were late today. Perhaps you ought to get that plate of food down to the infirmary and I'll take care of these."

The only response he got was a raised brow. Benjy laughed. "I thought at first that you were taking an extra plate to snack on but then I saw you heading to the infirmary with it last night and I realized that I've never seen the woman in there leave that room." He shrugged and began scrubbing the first plate.

After a moment of silence, Dearborn said, "I can see why Phill likes you so much, Fenwick."

Benjy turned but the man had turned his back and was rummaging through the ice box. There was nothing to gather from an expression. A moment later, he clapped Benjy on the shoulder and disappeared around the corner. Alone at last, Benjy let the tumbler in his hand fall back into the sudsy water. He leaned his elbows on the edge of the counter and placed his head into his wet hands, pressing his heels into his eyes before running his hands through his hair. If he had been alone in his flat, he could have given into the desire to sink to the floor and let himself have the moment to grieve. Instead, he pulled himself upright again and went back to the task at hand.

Marlene didn't have the heart to tell Caradoc that Loah had been bringing her food. They both seemed so intent on taking care of her that she'd just tried to make both of them happy. Loah was the more insistent of the two so she always ate more for him. It just took a couple of bites and some conversation to satisfy Cara that she wasn't going to fade away to a bag of bones. She pushed the food around the plate until he was on his way, waiting only long enough so that she didn't meet anyone in the kitchen when she washed up the doubled plate.

After the set back this afternoon, she was feeling almost like normal once again. Or like what normal should have felt like if she ever really felt normal on a daily basis. It was odd to feel so well-rested. At first it had concerned her that she'd felt so good, as if Loah had done something to her when she was sleeping that he hadn't asked permission first. When she told Loah about this odd new alertness, and answered the litany of questions that followed, neither of them could figure it out. When Quinn delivered the new void stone, there was the slight tingle that told her that the stone was working but nothing changed. She still felt better than she ever remembered feeling.

"I'm going to have to do something soon or I'm going to be six stone before I ever get to leave this place," she mused to herself with a smile as she walked into the kitchen. "I'll just tell him. Straight out. He'll understand if... Oh."

She hadn't expected anyone to be in the kitchen so long after dinner being served. Seeing this person made her remember all too vividly that there were other people in this place other than Caradoc, Loah and Quinn. Life went on outside the walls of the Infirmary, one that she wasn't privy to.

Benjy glanced over his shoulder at the sound of a woman's voice and was surprised to see the woman who never left the infirmary standing in the doorway of a room that was not the infirmary. He peered around her expecting Dearborn to come rambling back in but there was nobody with the woman. Perhaps she only wandered the grounds when everybody else was supposed to have retired for the evening.

He smiled. "Was it not satisfying tonight?" he asked, nodding towards the plate of picked through food in her hand.

She looked down at the plate and back up at the man with soap bubbles clinging to his arms. "This was actually my second plate of food. I didn't want that much, no matter how good it was. If I'd only been more patient, my secret would still be safe."

Benjy laughed, shaking his head slightly. "Well then, dump the food in the bin and I'll wash the dish," he told her as he turned back to the last of the plates in the sink. "But you're right, you should tell him so that he doesn't keep wasting Arabella's food, not that there isn't plenty of it to be wasted." He glanced back over his shoulder, his smile still lighting his face. "We wouldn't want you to be six stone now would we?"

When the woman set the plate down next to the sink, he added, "I'm Benjy, by the way. I'd shake your hand but I'm afraid they're not suitable for meeting pretty ladies just now."

It was hard not to blush when he called her a pretty lady, as she was assuming he was talking about her, but it was nice to have someone flirting with her instead of hovering. She was getting so very tired of the hovering, even if it was being done because Caradoc cared for her safety and the fact that he still felt it was his fault she'd nearly been blown up.

"Marlene," she offered, leaning against the counter to watch him finish up the last few dishes. "I'd welcome any ideas how to get out of this situation with finesse. I don't have any experience with this sort of thing. I thought I'd just wait it out and see if he doesn't get bored with the nursemaid routine. Or until I'm six stone. Whatever comes first."

He laughed again as a random image of Dearborn running about with a Healer's apron and hat on flashed in his mind's eye. "Well," he began but couldn't get the image out of his head and had to take another moment to compose himself. "Dearborn does not strike me as the nursemaid sort." Another chuckle escaped, even as he wondered what it was about this woman or her injuries that had the man bringing her a plate of food every morning and every night, yet not staying long enough for her to finish the meal. Obviously they were not close enough for Marlene to feel comfortable declining his offer.

"I don't know him that well but I'm sure if you just tell him that you've already eaten, he'll understand. And from what I've seen, he'll probably be grateful for the excuse to eat the extra servings himself. He seems to be able to eat more than anybody I've ever met other than that partner of his."

She'd never once thought of talking to Caradoc instead of this subterfuge. It was too much like confrontation, something she had never been good at outside of her visions. If she saw an image of herself talking to him about the situation, she would have been more than willing to fulfill that destiny. Without it, she had no idea of the outcome and so was not willing to step out of her comfort zone.

Of course, she was talking to a strange man who washing her dish as if he had no other care in the world. That was as equally out of her comfort zone yet she was still here when she could have walked out as soon as she sat the plate down.

"Maybe." She handed him the towel as he pulled his hands out of the water even though it was closer to him than it was to her. "I suppose, with any luck, I won't be around for much longer and so won't have to deal with the issue."

Benjy accepted the towel and slung it over his shoulder, sending soap bubbles flying through the air. He gave her the smallest of apologetic smiles, whipping the towel down and wiping the bubbles he had flung at her from her arm. The note of panic that flashed in her eyes did not escape his attention and he quickly turned back to the sink. More carefully this time, he replaced the towel over his own shoulder and then ran his hands and forearms under the water. When he was finished drying them, he turned to her and leaned a hip against the counter.

For a few moments, he just stood with his head slightly tilted to one side and an assessing expression on his face. She had not run off so perhaps he had not spooked her quite as much as he had originally thought when he reached out and touched her. Finally, he shook his head and smiled. "Perhaps at breakfast tomorrow," he began, pushing off the counter and opening the ice box. Though he knew he needed to tread a bit more carefully with her, Benjy couldn't resist the opportunity to tease her. "I shall tell him that I saw you and you were especially hungry and craving some human contact." After withdrawing a small bowl of fruit, he turned back to her. He rolled a blueberry between his fingertips. "What do you suppose he would do with that information?" he added before popping the berry into his mouth.

Marlene narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out if he was joking or if he was serious. Even though he wasn't smiling, she could hear the humour in his voice. Of course, that didn't mean that he wouldn't do what he said he would do.

And then she was still dealing with the fact that he had touched her and nothing had happened. Absolutely nothing. She knew that the side effects from the bomb had given her a headache but she'd deliberately touched Quinn when she'd brought in the void stone so she knew that she hadn't dealt with any lasting effects. Nothing happened when Benjy touched her. More than that, she'd felt a slight feeling of calm come over her almost as soon as she'd felt his fingers on her arm. Had the setback she'd felt earlier been a sign that she wasn't as well as she thought she was.

"Or maybe I'm the first one at the table when they serve breakfast." She picked out a small berry from the bowl he held and popped it in her mouth, surprised at how sweet the fruit was. "Then he won't be surprised when he comes in and I'm talking to you."

She'd fully intended to say _other people_ but that just slipped out and she couldn't do anything about it. Instead of watching his face for any sign of revulsion or anger, she busied herself trying to find another berry that looked sweet.

Benjy raised both brows at that and after a moment, he chuckled and nodded. "I suppose that would foil my fun just a bit but I do believe there would be other benefits to make up for that." He met her eyes and smiled. "Though, I do believe that you'd raise quite a few questions just by being out and about. After all, this is the first time I've seen you anywhere but the infirmary." He looked at the stain the berry had caused on his fingers and then plucked out a plump strawberry and watched as the two colors mixed on his skin.

"You should join us. It might stir some conversation other than the same old dreary topics we can discuss during the long, exhausting days. For instance, you can tell me what it is you do and how you came to be here so that you might get to leave soon." He cradled the bowl strategically as she began searching for another piece of fruit. If she wanted it, she'd have to come closer. "Or you could share some dessert with me and tell me now." Phill would be expecting him, but they could talk tomorrow before breakfast if she fell asleep before he was done eating this fruit.

She successfully nabbed the piece of fruit that she'd had her eye on but touched his hand in the process and dropped the treasure. Experience made her jump back away from the threat, her breath coming too fast as she waited for the assault on her body. Once again, nothing happened. If nothing else, it made her want to stick around and find out more about this dishwasher.

"If you promise that I can have that strawberry... no, that one... yes. If I can have that one, I think I can be talked into telling you my life story. It's truly fantastic and takes all of ten minutes to tell. If you like, I can pause extra long between words to stretch out the suspense. I'll give you a hint." She leaned in just the slightest bit, trying to hold back a smile. "It ends with me being stuck in the Infirmary at this place because there's no where else for me to be. Terrifying."

This girl was an odd bird, Benjy decided. If she hadn't immediately smiled and began joking about the fruit, he would have thought he had somehow hurt her even though it had been she who had touched him this time. Strange. He watched her closely though as she spoke, trying to assess whether the truth was in her words or her demeanor. When she leaned in he almost leaned away, afraid to spook her once again and send her running off.

"What do you mean there is no where else for you to be?" he asked, offering her the strawberry she had indicated. He waited for her to straighten before he slowly moved around her and sat down at the table. Using his foot, he nudged the chair across from him out and nodded for her to have a seat. "You got your strawberry, now I get my story."

The sweetness of the fruit counteracted the bitter taste in her mouth as Marlene sank down in the chair that he'd indicated. She wanted to savor the small piece of fruit but couldn't resist eating it all in one bite. It gave her the courage to at least start telling her story, something that Caradoc had been trying to get her to do in more detail since she'd woken up.

"There's no where else for me to be because my world was blown up a few days ago. How sad when it's said out loud. Most people have a world that is large enough that one explosion doesn't rip it apart but I don't."

Try as she might, she couldn't keep her chin up and eyes forward. Her little life was embarrassing when she had to talk about it. Time to stick to the facts. She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to find some semblance of peace about talking like this.

"Caradoc and Cam were in time to save me and quite a few others from a death under the thick walls of the ORC. The blast was mostly magical and disrupted my system for long enough that Loah thought it better that I stick close to the Infirmary just in case there were further problems. Except for a tiny setback today, I've been feeling better so I thought I might have a look around." She gave him a small smile. "Was that worth the fruit I ate?"

Even though he knew that there had to have been an explanation similar to what she had just described, it still took Benjy a moment to grasp what she had just told him. He had been standing in this room when the news of the ORC explosion had reached him and even then, it had seemed an odd target. From the little information that had been given at the time, he and Phill had assumed that the team from The Group had been the target and that it had just been a coincidence that they had been at the ORC. He hadn't known it was the men he was working with at the time. Yet, given the circumstances of the woman sitting across from him, perhaps his initial assumption had been wrong. Perhaps she was the target. He wondered what she had done to find herself in Black's crosshairs. Still, something wasn't right about that scenario. Why would this group bring a stranger, target or not, back to their headquarters instead of to a safe house. It wasn't as if Loah couldn't travel...

Finally, Benjy nodded in answer to her question. "It was, though I find I have more questions now than before your story. You were obviously the target and not Dearborn or Figge, so why is it that Black wants you dead? And why did the explosion disrupt your system and not the men who rescued you?" From what he knew of these new explosions, they did not discriminate. If the enemy had found a way to specifically target an individual, they were in far deeper trouble than anyone could have thought. And if Gideon Prewett had known this, it was information he should have shared with Benjy and Phill.

There was no way she was going to give out the answers to just anyone, especially if he really was just a dishwasher. It was bad enough that Caradoc and his friends knew. She felt exposed even though she knew that they wouldn't hurt her.

She did like that he was listening, though. For so long, she had gotten by with barely hiding because she hadn't really needed to hide. All she had to do was stay quiet and people just passed her by, without another thought. What she'd said to him could have been ignored.

That being said, she wasn't going to just hand him over the answers. If the people here wanted to know the things she knew, they would have to ask the right questions in the right order.

"No, this is a conversation. That means you get to ask questions and then I get to ask questions. If I remember correctly, that's how this sort of thing works. Correct?"

He couldn't help the smile at her avoidance. Hell, he couldn't fault her either. They all had parts of themselves that weren't meant for sharing with other people. There were several topics of his own life that were off-limits.

"It is how things work, yes," he told her as he bit off the tip of a large strawberry. "Though normally answers are provided and then other questions are posed." He inclined his head slightly. "But for the sake of keeping this conversation moving forward and allowing your privacy, we will move on to your questions."

"I'll keep them simple so we can continue to move forward." She really had no idea what questions she was going to ask. There were a couple of things she wanted to know but she didn't know how open Benjy was to questions. Caradoc had been very selective about the questions he answered about this place and the people here, although he never seemed as if he wasn't answering them. She figured he'd had years of practice at the subterfuge.

After taking a deep breath, Marlene finally thought of a few things she really wanted to know. "Have you ever carried a void stone with you? What time of day were you born? And," she paused, watching him eat yet another berry as if he was never going to be able to savor another one again, "what is this thing you have with strawberries?"

Her questions were so far apart that Benjy had no idea what information she was trying to gather. He narrowed his eyes at her. She was either very sneaky or very confused. "An odd set of questions," he finally said, glancing down at the half eaten strawberry. "I like it."

Benjy popped the berry into his mouth before fishing out another blueberry and repeating the same rolling motion he'd been using on the fruit. "I have no idea what a void stone is so I am pretty certain that I've never carried one before. I was an impatient little bugger and came just after midnight on the date they told my mother I was expected. Twelve oh one to be exact." He popped the blueberry into his mouth and then picked up the last strawberry. He looked at it for a moment before smiling and offering it to Marlene. "As for strawberries - they just taste good." And they reminded him of Beck but that was not information he shared lightly. Especially as bringing up a sibling would just lead to him having to avoid a question.

"Now is it my turn again? Or do you have more for me?"

Marlene took the strawberry but she wasn't sure she could eat it. The idea of just putting it into her mouth instead of fully appreciating it like he had with all that he had eaten seemed inadequate.

"They taste good? Right." Her cheeks flamed with heat when she thought about trying to eat it now, though. Instead of eating the fruit, she set it down on the table in front of her. "I'll stick to my part of the bargain. It's your turn now."

For a moment, as she lifted the berry in her hand, something flared inside of Benjy that had not stirred in the last year. As if she had read his mind, her face flushed a brilliant red and she set the piece of fruit down. When she looked back up, some of the color had receded but her cheeks were still a bright pink.

He ducked his head and looked at the nearly empty bowl of fruit in front of him. "Let's see... we do not want to stall this conversation (and he really didn't - it was far more interesting and relaxing that rehashing the day's events would have been) so what can I ask to keep us moving forward." His lips curved and he glanced up. "Since you opened the door, I shall inquire as to what a void stone is and why you would want to know if I carried one. And to keep it at three a piece for the time being, did you attend Hogwarts?"

"Ravenclaw," she answered quickly, happy to be able to answer one of his questions without having to hide from it, or hedge her way around it. How to answer the others, though? She was walking a thin line here, without really knowing anything about him. It must have been nice to be able to trust people, like how she saw Caradoc and his team act with each other. "And a void stone is... something people use to dampen magical influence. I knew a guy who carried one. He was... strange. I just wanted to make sure you weren't strange. You aren't strange, are you?"

He should have known she was Ravenclaw. It was either that or Slytherin and he had never known a Slytherin to blush so fiercely. Not unless they thought it was going to get them something. He finished off the blueberries as she paused and then pushed the bowl aside so that he could cross his arms on the table. When she had finished her explanation and had provided her reasoning, Benjy could do nothing but stare at her for the space of a few breaths. And then he burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry," he said through his laughter. "What an ironic question. And coming from you no less." His features softened as his laughter calmed, though a grin was still firmly in place on his lips, and he stared across the table at this fascinating woman. "Don't be offended, Marlene, but you are quite possibly the strangest person I have ever met. In an intriguing sort of way. A good way, don't get me wrong. But for you to wonder if I am strange just makes me laugh. I am, by the way. Strange that is. But then I think we're all a bit strange, don't you? What I mean is, we all have quirks about us that others find strange. Besides, normal can be quite boring if you ask me. Give me a girl with a few quirks to keep me on my toes."

He shook his head and leaned forward onto his arms. "My turn." Even if it wasn't, he was going to seize this opportunity to steer the conversation in a direction he wanted to know about. "First, let me tell you that I was Hufflepuff. So you don't have to waste a question on that. I did not play Quidditch, I excelled in transfiguration and charms but am rot in potions. Now, for my questions. Are you dating anybody? It's obviously not Dearborn or you wouldn't feel the need to hide the fact that you're not hungry from him. Would I be crossing the line if I asked you out for dinner? It can be when you've left this place and have some semblance of your life back in order if you'd like." Though he hoped it could be before. Just because he was stuck here with The Group did not mean he couldn't escape for more pleasurable activities. And spending more time with this woman seemed like it would fit that bill quite nicely. Not only did she make him laugh, but she was quite fit indeed.

It had been a very long time since she'd made anyone laugh. Really, all this attention was going to her head because she could have sworn he asked her on a date. There was a time when she'd been a normal girl, doing normal girl things in a normal girl way. That was before she had, in essence, run away from her family in order to have some kind of life. And before she'd found herself living in the tiny office at the ORC because she didn't make enough to get any other type of housing that was safe enough. Inside the walls of the ORC had always been the safest place for her but even that had been disrupted.

Even if Caradoc made good on his promise to find her things, there wasn't much there to find. She hadn't had enough of a life to get a semblance of it back.

But even that thought didn't hurt nearly as much as it had before because he was smiling at her and he'd asked her on a date. She had not idea how to answer that.

"You need to ask a third question." When he looked at her with a frown, she dropped her eyes and fought to keep her own lips from curving upward. "You only asked two questions. You need to ask three questions but I suppose I can overlook that. My answers to those would have to be no and... I don't know. I mean, I have no idea what will happen when I leave here. Or when, for that matter. It seems like a long time to wait for dinner."

Even though she wasn't looking at him, Benjy could see the small twitch in her lips. She was trying not to smile, putting her words in direct opposition of what he thought she was wanting to say. "Alright," he said as he scooted his chair out and grabbed up the empty bowl of fruit.

"Waiting was just a suggestion, Marlene. Let's not use that as an excuse." His tone was light as he set the bowl in the sink and used his wand to clean it. When he put the dish away, he turned around, leaned against the counter's top and looked at her once again. "So my third question then... would you be open to having dinner with me? If you are not comfortable with the idea of leaving the compound, we could even do a late dinner here after everybody else has gone off to do their own things. I'm not sure if you've seen the back side of the place but the view is rather spectacular." He smiled. "Or you can tell me no outright and I will have to settle for having another conversation with you tomorrow over breakfast."

She was definitely hearing things wrong. A yes meant getting to spend time with him. A no meant the same thing. This was a guy who actually listened to what she said and talked back to her like she was worth the time. When she was around him, she didn't have to worry about a wrong touch, something she hadn't even begun to analyze. This was the calmest she'd been in days... weeks, even.

When she stood up, she thought about her options. There was leaving and going back to the infirmary where she could be alone with her thoughts. There was staying where she was and talking. There was walking over to where he was and talking. She dismissed the first right away. That left the second and third options.

As casually as she could make the motion seem, she walked over to where he stood by the counter and pulled herself up so that she was perched next to him. Without looking at him, which was the only way she knew to have this conversation without losing it completely, she said, "I would have to say yes to conversation over breakfast tomorrow. And yes to dinner. It can't be fancy because I only have these scrubs to wear so nothing that's going to make me feel out of place."

Before he could answer, she hurried on with her next set of questions. "What do you do here besides wash dishes? Did you successfully turn your animal into a teapot your first year of Transfigurations? If I tell you why Black has it out for me, will you take back your offer of dinner?"

Benjy watched her as she stood and slowly moved towards him. As she approached, he turned his head to watch as she settled herself on the counter; however, when she was in place, he too turned his head so that he was once again looking forward. No need to make her uncomfortable.

He couldn't help the smile, though, as she agreed to have dinner with him and he knew the perfect place. And the perfect way to keep her at ease in her scrubs. Of course, he would have to see if Arabella could help him out just a bit as he doubted he'd have time for much preparation.

He was so caught up in mentally preparing for this dinner that he was slightly taken off guard by her last question. He did turn and look at her then; her face was impassive, though he thought that said a lot in and of itself. Turning his entire body so that he was facing her, Benjy said, "I did successfully transfigure a teapot, though that same day I also managed to melt a cauldron so there was no time for getting a big head." He offered a self-deprecating smile. "If you would prefer, you can wait until our dinner to tell me about Black's agenda against you. That way you'll know without a doubt that I have no intention of retracting my offer."

Those were the easy ones, of course. How to answer her first question without having to completely dismiss it? He thought about playfully avoiding her question, giving her the obvious while still dismissing the topic but that felt wrong. She was offering, in a way, to open herself up to rejection by telling him the one thing she had actively avoided earlier. Though, telling her his job was infinitely more complicated and put lives on the line and his usual nonsense wouldn't work with Marlene given where they had met.

He sighed and after a moment’s contemplation said, "I'm here with my business associate. We’re consulting on an issue they're currently having." One shoulder lifted in a shrug, as if it were nothing spectacular or interesting. “So does Friday work for you then? Or would you honor me with two meals in one day tomorrow?”

She couldn't stand it any longer. All he could keep talking about was this date and she was positive that if he knew more about her, he would walk out of this room. Or, worse, he would get that look like Caradoc and Quinn often got when they talked with her. Cam's shuttered expression was really no better.

"I'm a McKinnon," she blurted out. After years of keeping the secret, she felt horrible for being so open with the secret. Just because he was here did not mean he was safe, no matter how much she wanted him to be.

When he didn't react right away, she looked over at him. "Does that mean anything to you?"

"A little," he replied slowly, mulling over that information in his head. It did nothing to explain why Black would try to blow her up, but did explain _why_ she was on Black's radar in the first place. Was she a bargaining pawn? A casualty to force the clan to cooperate? And again, the question of why Prewett would keep her here instead of at a safe house came to mind. That made no sense to him. Then again, why Prewett would allow Benjy and Phill to reside here during this time was questionable as well. The Pack would _never_ allow an outsider into their den. Of course, as it was very few of its actual members actually knew where the headquarters was situated.

"But as before, it leaves me with more questions." His frown increased and his eyes narrowed at the small space between them and an image of her flinching away from him came to the forefront of his mind. "Do you not have the gift then? Is that why you were making a living at the ORC? My understanding is that the majority of your clan are confin- well, they stay at their compound." He shook his head before she could answer. "I'm sorry, Marlene. That is none of my business. Forgive my intrusion." Benjy moved so that he stood in front of her instead of next to her, but he was careful not to reach out as his instincts wanted him to do. "I'm sorry she's come after you, Marlene, but I believe you're in good hands here. They're very capable.

"One more thing," he said. "Why would that information make me retract my offer of dinner?"

"Because..." but she let her voice trail off because she didn't want to voice her fears. If he didn't think she was a freak, she wasn't about to try to convince him otherwise. There was none of the _look at the poor little girl who can see visions_ coming from him either.

She could touch him, she realized. That was enough of a gift not to throw away. Very carefully, just in case the first time had been some sort of fluke, she put her hand on the upper part of his arm, where his shirt was sure to act as a buffer if she was wrong. Nothing happened except that her hand got really warm which translated into other parts of her getting warm.

"I ran away," she said simply, answering the question he'd asked even though he wasn't expecting her to. Her chin shot up as she met his eyes with her own stern gaze. "And I'm not going back, just in case you and your business associate had any ideas about trying anything. They... don't want me."

It was the first lie she'd told him all night. Everything inside her cried out at the inaccuracy but she couldn't help it. She'd already shared way too much with him on this, the first night of their acquaintance. As much as she hated to think it, he could be a person willing to run with an opportunity to get in the good graces of the McKinnon's and deliver her back to them like a trussed turkey.

After the way she has shied away from the accidental contact earlier, Benjy held especially still as she reached out and made deliberate contact with his arm. He watched her face closely as if trying to understand what she thought his upper arm might tell her. At her words; however, he couldn't help but tense and he resisted the urge to sigh when she withdrew her hand and folded it in her lap. She was a very confusing woman.

"First, you are not the issue I am here consulting on so rest easy. The only way I'll be removing you from this place is if you ask me to. Second, why wouldn't your family want you?" Benjy couldn't understand a family not wanting one of their children. It seemed impossible. After all, if he could spend more time with his family, he'd jump at the opportunity. It wasn't that people didn't know that Rebecca had a brother and that and had a son off somewhere traveling the world, but the more time he spent with his family, the increased possibility that they could be used as leverage against him and this cause. Sure, the Pack didn't negotiate, but that didn't mean that Benjy could easily sacrifice his family. No matter what the greater good was. It was exactly the reason he had protested being an envoy with The Group. These people didn't shy away from exposure.

"That's just ridiculous. Even if you aren't like them, they should still love you. Is it possible you've misunderstood something."

"No, it's not a misunderstanding." Marlene crossed her arms over her stomach, trying to ease the ache she felt whenever she thought of her family. This was a life she chose for herself. To have her family meant having to give up her freedom, something she wasn't ready to do. Not even for her mother.

"It's complicated. Let's just leave it at that." She put a smile in place and looked up. "I guess I get a question now."

Benjy frowned but he did not push the issue. He did not understand how a family could turn out one of their own, especially since said family was at odds with the current regime. Though it angered him, it was not his business and if Marlene was shutting the topic down, he needed to respect that.

He inclined his head. "Yes. I believe it is well past your turn," he told her, returning to his position beside her. "What do you have for me, Marlene?"

"No fair sneaking in questions." As if the past few minutes hadn't happened, Marlene swatted at him arm with a laugh. She could get used to touching people again. "Okay, let's see. You know that I'm not dating anyone but you've never actually mentioned if you're unattached. So, are you? Dating anyone? And will your business associate appreciate that you're not concentrating on business the entire time you're here?"

Her playfulness erased the remainder of his frown. Her family life was her concern and he shouldn't let it interfere with the time he had with this woman, which, given his career choice, would obviously be limited to the time they were here.

"It would be highly inappropriate to ask a girl out for dinner if I were not free to do so, now wouldn't it?" he replied, turning to look at her. "But no. I am not dating anybody. And Phill will not mind in the least." Though, he wasn't as confident at that comment. In normal situations, Phill wouldn't mind, but here, where they were surrounded by near strangers... well, that might be different. He pulled on a smile. "As long as I do not completely abandon her, she'll find ways to entertain herself." More to soothe his own guilt than for Marlene's benefit, he added, "Besides, she and Dearborn are old friends so it's not as if I'll be leaving her completely alone."

"Who isn't Caradoc old friends with? The boy walks through an empty room and finds at least two new people to meet and three he already knows." She had a sudden thought that had her very glad that she'd told Benjy who she was. Too much of her past was starting to creep in on her, something she'd never thought would happen after she'd distanced herself from school and her family. In all the years since, she'd only had contact with Dorcas and that's because the girl didn't know when to let go. "Would Phill be a short, blonde girl with a laugh like a drowning pincher crab?"

This drew another laugh from him. "I've never once heard it described quite like that." Of course, that was probably because the only people besides Rebecca and Susanne who knew them both were work associates and wouldn't have the nerve to describe any part of Phill in a way that didn't seem flattering. Even if it would have made Phill laugh. "But yes, that would be my partner."

He nudged Marlene with his shoulder. "I suppose you know her from school? Or has she been sneaking off for lunch dates when my back was turned?"

"She was friends with a friend of mine. My only friend there toward the end, actually. I guess I can see her doing something like this, especially considering this is what Dorcas does, too."  
"And what is it that dear Dorcas is doing right now?"

Marlene jerked her head up, visibly paling when she saw the object of their conversation standing in the doorway. She looked very much like she had that last year at Hogwarts, all big blue eyes and cocky smile. "Hello, Phill."

"Of all the things you remember from school, you have to remember the thing about the laugh?"

"Dorcas didn't come up with a lot of funny things. I remembered the few things she came up with." Marlene shrugged, suddenly feeling like one person too many in the room. She slid off the counter, angling her body so that both of the people were still in sight. "I should probably head back before Loah comes looking for me. I'll see you at breakfast, right?"

"I'll be there." Though, given her reaction to Phill entering the room, he wasn't so sure Marlene would be. In a quieter voice, though he was sure Phill would still be able to hear him, Benjy added, "And if I don't see you tomorrow morning, I'll see you Friday. You can't back out of that one."

She tried to bite her lip to stop the smile but it was impossible. Instead, she turned to him and let it shine. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Phill let Marlene slip past her with only a soft, "Good night." She took the girl's place on the counter and crossed her arms. "Well, wasn't that just a nice little domestic scene I interrupted. What the hell were you thinking hooking up with Marlene McKi... by the saints, she's a McKinnon. I guess I never put two and two together until just now. Well, isn't this is a nice mess you've gotten yourself into. Here I thought you were the smarter of the two of us."

Benjy leaned back on his elbows and crossed his legs at the ankles. That wasn't the response he had expected from Phill. He wondered if there was more to their past than Marlene had had time to let on. With a frown, he turned and looked at his partner and the one person he had counted on more than any other, including his own family, over the last six years.

"First, I've not hooked up, whatever that means, with Marlene. Second of all, how is it a mess? I know McKinnons date or there wouldn't be many McKinnons anymore." Despite the smile that crept over his lips, there was a heaviness settling in his stomach. He trusted her instincts in all aspects of his life and he suddenly wasn't sure he wanted to know why she thought this was such a terrible idea. Then again, he wasn't one to shy away from something because it might not align with what he wanted. "What am I missing, Phill?"

Phill ruffled Benjy's hair before resting her cheek on the top of his head, her arm curled protectively around his neck. "What you are missing is that this girl is one of those forever girls. She has a family. A lot of family. Dorcas always talked about the amount of mail the girl got, especially when her brother left school. It's a family that keeps tabs on their daughter. She's going to expect the guy she... well, we won't say hooked up with since you don't like that term. The guy she's attached to. I'll wager my left kidney that she expects that guy to be around more than once or twice a month. Look at how guilty you feel for not spending more time with your sister. How are you going to feel if you can't be everything you want to a girl like this? She's trouble, Ben. Trouble with a capital M."

He continued to frown as he processed the stark contrast between what Marlene had told him about her family and what Phill had just described. He couldn't make sense of the information as it tried to fall into all the correct puzzle spots. What was it that Marlene was keeping from him? Most likely, a lot, being that they had just met 30 minutes ago.

With an exaggerated sigh, Benjy spun so that he was placed between Phill's legs, pinning her in with an arm on either side of her body. His frown lifted into a small smirk at the look of annoyance she gave him from his sudden movement. "I hadn't exactly thought to settle down and have a family, Phill. And she didn't seem like she was eagerly hoping for a ring or something." His smirk grew when she rolled her eyes. "Alright, I see what you're saying. What if I promise to let her know that I am not a forever kind of bloke?" Sad as it was, his life would not accommodate it. "And ensure she knows that I don't have plans on sticking around here after we're done with this job. Just so everybody is clear on what's going on here."

"Just so everybody is clear," she murmured as she leaned forward so that their foreheads were touching. That wouldn't solve anything but she didn't think she was up for having that conversation with her best friend tonight. Not after watching another piece of her own history walking out the door.

"So, can this day be over now? I'm asleep on my feet waiting for you to be done _flirting_ when you clearly told me you would be along in a few moments at the most. You do remember saying that, correct?"

Benjy chuckled and nodded his head against hers. "I cannot help it if the fairer sex finds me utterly irresistible, my dear." He was not successful at ducking away from the knee that made contact with his ribs. With a groan, he turned in her arms so that his back was pressed against her. "But yes," he said as he tapped his shoulders. "This day can be over."

When Phill's legs wrapped around his waist, he dipped slightly below the counter and then scooted her firmly onto his back, securing his arms beneath her. "Let's get you to bed so that you can get your beauty rest and participate in the morning conversations. You can help me flirt with my future wife." He turned his head, smiling as innocently as possible. When she made a sound low in the back of her throat and tightened her arms around his neck, he laughed outright. "If I pass out, I will drop you."

"No, you won't. You never will." Phill loosened her hold but felt herself relax for the first time all day. It was enough that she'd be able to fall asleep tonight even with the inevitable nightmares. If a few tears fell on the back of Benjy's neck, he never mentioned it but his arms kept her securely in place for the entire trip back to her room.


	11. Dreaming of Free

_*** Prologue: Fifth Year ***_

Alice couldn't stop shivering even though she was sitting as close to Sirius as she could get without actually sitting on his lap. It was dark in the forest but she wasn't scared. The wild animals they _might_ encounter had nothing on the animals they had just successfully gotten away from. Animals that walked on two legs and hit with both fists and used magic wands with relative good success were the kind that really frightened her. Even with Sirius' arm around her, holding her close, she still couldn't get rid of the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. _I can't lose you_ she thought to herself... or maybe she didn't keep it internal as his arm tightened around her.

It was time to pull herself together. They hadn't gotten away from this last confrontation unscathed. Her knee stung, a sure sign that at least one of the barbed tentacles that had shot out of August's wand had landed a hit. Sirius had suffered several punches to the face before she'd been successful in pulling most of the group away from him with a few, well-placed insults.

"How's your eye?" Alice asked, her voice still only a thready whisper that was a step away from panicked. "Do you need some ice for it?"

"Probably," he said. He let his head drop to rest on top of hers, his hand running up and down her arms. It seemed an eternity that they had been playing this game of cat and mouse with his House mates. Why the professors looked the other way still confounded him but he supposed that they were all just terrified of what his mother's regime would do if they interfered. The only one they had ever been able to count on was Madame Meadows but she was just one woman and couldn't be everywhere at once.

Sirius felt Alice's face turning and he sat up to smile down at her. The concern was written all over her face, but the fear was shining out from her eyes. He reached up and brushed the hair back from her eyes, cupping her cheek in the process. "You're always so worried about me. How are you?" When her jaw tightened, he sighed and relented. "I'm all right. I am. I'm used to it by now, Alice." He wasn't but he always wanted to put on a brave front for Alice even though they both knew the truth. Of course, his physical injuries would heal. They always did. If these monsters of his reality truly wanted to hurt him, they'd go after Alice instead of him, but he was glad they were thick enough not to have figured that out yet. He dreaded the day they realized it since he wasn't sure he would be able to properly defend her. He could barely keep them off of him... how would he save her?

"If you think it needs it, then..." He glanced around and picked up a small flat stone. "Transfigure something for me, my brilliant Wren."

She couldn't tell if the dark circles under his eyes were from lack of sleep or new bruises from the beating. As much as he tried to put on a brave front (one she normally let him keep in place because she couldn't bear the alternative), she could see through it so easily. Just as she saw through that look of icy calm over his face while they were at school, cocking his eyebrow at just the right angle to make everyone think he didn't care, she could see through this smile.

Her hand was shaking as she pulled out her wand from the secure pouch against her waist. Neither she nor Sirius ever showed their wand, something they'd learned early on. A visible wand could be taken quite easily.

With just a word, Sirius was holding a neatly tied bag of crushed ice. She would have preferred cubes as they would keep a bit longer but she would have had to concentrate and she just wasn't up for that sort of magic right now. "Here, put it against your face so it does some good." Alice pushed his hand toward his face until the bag was resting against the bruised flesh. The streak of blood along the back of his hand proved to be from the flesh of one of his knuckles. With another quick word, she healed the small wound. While she couldn't do even the most basic of potions, she was a whiz at taking care of scrapes and bruises. It was the only thing she practiced these days.

"I told you I didn't need to go to class. What would have happened if I'd actually gone? Or if I'd been even a few seconds later than I was? They had you right and tight this time. They would have killed you without a single thought. Damn what your family has requested. Damn what punishment might be meted out by the school. They want more than just your blood, Sir. They're getting bolder."

Her ministrations had drawn a true smile to his face and he held it firmly in place as her words echoed through his mind. “Come here,” he said, patting his chest again. When she sighed and settled back against him he tightened his one-armed hold on her. He wasn’t sure whether the shivers were from the ice or her words, but he took both comfort and heat from his best friend.

“I do not think we have to worry about death just yet.” Not that he didn’t agree with her on occasion; sometimes he though these blokes forgot that they weren’t supposed to be killing him. He was pretty sure; however, that they did still fear his mother’s repercussions and that this fear would continue to save his life. “They’re just getting older, love. They’re getting bigger all around and so they think they have more to prove now.” It probably didn’t help that he didn’t know when to shut his mouth, but he didn’t need to tell Alice that. “They want me to show them how much it bothers me and you know that I cannot give them such satisfaction so they have to push harder.” It was the same thing over summer hols and other breaks from school, but there was nothing to be done about that. At least not until his Uncle Alphard came back from across the pond.

He leaned his head down to hers once again. “I’m glad I can always count on you, Alice McKinnon.” It was the truth even if he wished she had never had to be involved in his dysfunctional life. Of course, he couldn’t imagine his life without this little sprite in his arms. She was the only light in his otherwise dark world. She kept him grounded even when he wanted nothing more than to just lie down and let the dark creep over him. “But you would be better suited to get a good education than having to always rescue the stray Black.”

"Education? Please. They can't teach me anything I couldn't find in a book." If they hadn't just had to run for their lives, this would have been an enjoyable way to spend an afternoon even if the rain was seeping through the leafy canopy overhead. There was no one else she wanted to spend time with. Her heart was still beating a thousand times faster than it should have been, her body running on adrenaline and something more but he was her friend and she couldn't and wouldn't do anything that would make their lives any harder than it already was.

Still, she found herself imagining a world where they weren't in constant danger and they might have just been enjoying themselves instead of hiding. For awhile, she'd wanted to know what kissing Sirius would be like. In that other life, she wondered if they'd already kissed. It was better than imagining that they weren't even friends. That thought made her snuggle in closer, tightening her grip on his shirt.

"Do you still have that apple in your pocket?" she asked suddenly, wondering what they were going to do about dinner. There was no way they were going to get back before the food was served and she doubted very much they would be able to walk into the Great Hall without drawing attention to themselves.

That was his Alice, ever practical. She was right though. It wasn’t through any class they took that she had learned all the medical spells she was constantly forced to use on him. That had all been her own doing, even if the reason she learned it was out of necessity.

He shifted so he could dig in the inside pocket of his robe. What he pulled out was only a handful of apple mush. He laughed and then tossed the mush aside. “I have a better idea,” he told her, wiping his hand on his denims. Sirius shifted so that he could stand and take her with him. “They’ve probably gone inside for supper. Let’s go stay in the greenhouses until dinner is over. You’ll be warmer and we can use magic without drawing out the forest creatures.” He tucked her against his side, his hand moving up and down her arm again. “Then we’ll go to the kitchens and see what they can scare up for us. It’ll be better than anything we would have had tonight, I’m certain.”

"Let me check first and make sure it's safe." Reluctantly, she pulled away from him. "I don't want to have to save you twice in one day. You know the drill. Turn yourself around, Jubal."

As always, he smiled when she used the nickname she'd come up with the second day of their friendship. He hadn't like how she used the same name as everyone else, calling him _Black_ as if it was a bad taste in their mouth that they needed to get out quickly. She refused, on the grounds that a boy became what he was called, to call him Sirius when, she informed him, she liked the way he smiled. In typical Alice style, she came up with a completely different name for him. Jubal Brown. When she used it, it made him shiver.

She'd learned quickly enough not to change with her robes still on. The heavy material sometimes fell wrong and she found herself trapped. No matter how sharp her beak or claws were, she wasn't equipped to get herself out of constricting material if she found herself under a layer of heavy cotton. When he was completely turned away, she hastily took off her robe and undid the buttons of her shirt so that it would fall away. Everything else could stay in place.

Despite himself, Sirius grinned at her, though he complied and turned around. The first time she had changed without her clothes on, she had caught him trying to sneak a peak and had promptly cast a spell that caused him to see nothing but spinning stars in front of his eyes for an entire minute. He had laughed then and insisted that she couldn’t blame a bloke for trying which she disputed, but since she was in her animal form, it didn’t carry the same weight.

"I've got to find the part of the spell that lets us keep our clothes. This is ridiculous," she muttered right before she pulled out her wand and transformed into a little gray and brown bird. With a shake of her feathers, she pulled clear of her clothes and launched up into the sky. There were times, when she made her first circle through the tree tops or around the towers of the school, that she contemplated just flying away and never looking back. He was the reason she could even do this, though. It had been his idea to learn to be animagi. She used this to help him, not saving herself from heartache.

A quick trip around the edges of the forest didn't show any threatening predators. She did discover a new den just to the right of where they normally came in. It would be a good idea to tell Sirius about that so he could steer clear of it. After taking another sweep over their route, she flew straight back to where Sirius was waiting for her. She landed on his shoulder, the first thing she'd learned how to do that wasn't straight out flying, and nuzzled up against his cheek.

When he heard the ruffle of her feathers, he turned and watched her fly off into the darkening sky. While he waited, he gathered up her blouse and her robes and folded them neatly before tucking them away inside the carry-all pouch he kept under his own robes. For a moment, he thought about changing himself, but then he would more than likely want to run off and play in the forest instead of taking refuge in the dry and warmer, though not by much, greenhouse.

He was just about ready to give into the temptation when he saw Alice flitting back towards him. Sirius no longer flinched when she neared his body, and instead, he reached up and stroked her head. “I take it our path is clear, Scout?” She playfully tapped at his nose with her beak and then chirped out a quick melody that Sirius still didn’t completely understand, though when she flew into his robes and tugged at the bag’s strap and then returned to his shoulder, he chuckled.

“Yes, I have your clothes,” he told her as he started towards the path which would lead them out of the forest. “Perhaps if you are not nice to me, I will hold them for ransom.” He laughed again when she nipped his ear. The peck was hard enough to draw blood, but Alice had never purposely drawn blood from him so he didn’t even reach up to check his ear. However, he did turn his cheek slightly when she nuzzled up against it once again.

“I still think it’s ever so fitting that you become this tiny little creature, Wren,” he told her. The first time he had seen her form, he had burst out laughing at the appropriateness. When they had met on the train that first year, Sirius had been drawn to Alice McKinnon and had associated it with the characteristic resemblance to the tiny wren that always perched outside his window at home. The tiny bird had brought him years of comfort and the way Alice moved and the sound her voice made when she spoke had made him think of his wren. It had been second nature to start calling her that and he’d be grateful she had let him. Though, he never called her anything but Alice in public. Nicknames were too intimate and might give the relentless lumps who tortured him ideas.

He was silent as they made their way across the school’s lawn to the herbology greenhouses. Only once they were inside and Sirius had done a sweep of the place did he dare to talk again. It’s not much but I needed to replace the charm on the bag when I was caught up by those dunces.” He withdrew her clothes and set them on the counter and then withdrew a small package, setting it on top of her clothes. “It should tide you over at least a little until we can go back up to the castle,” he added with a smile. When she landed next to her things, he nodded and turned around. “I don’t make you turn around,” he teased even though he never really had a reason to remove his clothes anymore and Alice had never had to be asked to respect his privacy.

"That's because you've figured out how to retain a good majority of your clothes. I, on the other hand, haven't been able to figure that out." It was a struggle to get dressed quickly, all her fingers becoming thumbs as she tried to unbutton and button her skirt so she was respectable once again. At least she wasn't entirely naked these days. More practice, she decided. She just needed to practice more.

When her shirt was mostly buttoned, she called out, "Done." If she was a bit hasty in giving him the all clear and his gaze faltered a little, she was not to blame. Instead, she gave him the look that said she was not pleased (even though she did like the way his eyes darkened) as she looped her tie back into place.

"Mmmm... salted snails. My favourite kind, too." She spread out her robe on the dirty bench before sitting down and opening the brown bag, spotty with salt and oil. While she had never been sure what all made up the components of a snail, they tasted enough like crisps that she could never resist them. Call her fickle, she just liked the calming reminder of home now and again.

When he just stood there, staring her, she patted the bench next to her. "Come. Sit. Enjoy. We'll just pretend that we're actually working on our Herbology homework. From first year. Remember that? I think I could have been pretty good at Herbology given half a chance. Too bad the professor was barmy and I was forced to show off my scathing wit one too many times. I tell you, half the teachers in this place are bad and the other half are outright idiots."

It took Sirius more time than usual to pull himself out of that place in his mind that seeing Alice exposed like that always sent him. Sure, she was his best friend in all of the world - hell, she was his _only_ friend in all of the world, but he was still a bloke and she was still a rather fit girl, with all the benefits age brought about. He honestly couldn't be blamed if he was unable to control where his eyes strayed when she left herself open like that. And the reaction is caused? Well that was just embarrassing but it couldn't be helped either.

After a few deep breaths, Sirius found his legs in working order again and he slid into the spot next to her on the bench. He picked up a snail, but instead of eating it, he simply twirled it between his fingers. "They only teach what the regime has deemed important. Everything else is trivial and they wouldn't dare to disagree with my mother for fear of literally having their heads bitten off." He nudged her with his shoulder. "But you're right. You're smarter than the whole lot. Even Madame Meadows." When he finally popped the snail into his mouth, his face screwed up and he was reminded once again that he did not enjoy these salty snacks. He made a sound of disgust and pushed the bag towards Alice. "I only carry those around for you, my dear but I do not have any idea how you stomach them."

He did know, though. She had told him once about the things that reminded her of home and that was why he always had at least one item on her comfort list on him at all times. It was the least he could do for her given all she had sacrificed for him over the years. In a quieter voice, he asked, "Do you ever think of not coming back here, Alice?"

"Every moment of every day." The words came out before she'd thought through exactly how they sounded. Alice looked over at her best friend, trying to gauge his reaction. So often she spoke without thinking and she could see that little flash of hurt spread through his eyes and disappear before she could do anything about it. It always left her feeling nauseous to think she had hurt her best friend.

When nothing had appeared to happen, she licked her fingers of all the salt and set the bag down. "But I'm not leaving you. Ever. You're stuck with me until... well, until forever. So if I leave, so do you. And if you ever think about sneaking off without me... well, I'll follow after you. So there."

Sirius released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "You would, wouldn't you?" he said just as quietly as he had posed his question. He gave her a slow smile and shook his head. "I don't consider it being stuck with you, Alice. But I'm glad to know it. I cannot imagine what made you stick your neck out for me that first week but I'm really glad you did." Even if sometimes he wished he could have spared her this life of constant running, the selfish part of him always overruled and reminded him how drab his life would be without her in it.

"I would come after you, too. You know that, right? Even if it means I have to storm the defenses at the McKinnon compound" He chuckled to belie the fear behind the statement. Every year, he feared that the McKinnons would forbid her from coming back to school and then he would truly be alone. Though, if that were ever the case, Sirius would not stay at Hogwarts. Alice was his only reason for staying here. "I would never leave you here alone. Ever." Unprotected. Without him to draw their ire, they would be able to concentrate all of their efforts on her and payment for all of her interference would be demanded.

Her body was threatening to overheat as she watched his mouth form words. At this point, she wasn't even really listening to what he was saying. He'd lost her at _I would come after you_ and nothing else made sense after that. It was impossible to fully realize what exactly she was feeling at this moment but it scared her so she did what she'd been doing a lot of lately... she changed the subject.

"Madam Meadows showed me one of the new books she just got in. Said she thought of me when she was ordering it. If I wanted to keep it for awhile, she didn't think anyone would miss it. She says I should keep it with me at all times. I wonder why she thinks I need a book on the flora and fauna of the British Isles? Strange."

Alice leaned against his shoulder and proceeded to tell him everything she had read so far. There would be plenty of time for considering words and actions and how they tied together later. When he wasn't quite so near, in fact. That was the only time she could think about those things because, otherwise, she might forget herself and do something really stupid... like kiss him.

 _*** Current time - Sixth Year ***_

"So help me, Sirius Black, if you don't get your sorry arse here in the next five minutes, I'm going to turn you black and blue." Alice ripped at one of her fingernails with her teeth as she struggled to pace in the small space. She'd been on edge for days now as they'd completed all their planning, everything falling, more or less, into place. It had all gone too easy.

And now Sirius was nearly half an hour late. This was the time they'd agreed would be the best for leaving the school grounds. Very few of their tormentors liked to miss meals, even for the prospect of getting to inflict new torture. If they put this off much longer, they'd have to wait another day and she didn't think she could wait any longer. Her stomach was already giving her fits and she hadn't slept in a week as she contemplated all that could go wrong.

"Where are you?" she whispered, crossing her arms over her chest. He was never late unless he was in trouble. It would be just their luck to get caught right before they made their break.

Sheer force of will was the only thing that kept Sirius from losing consciousness. This had been a particularly bad session as he had taken to calling these beatings. In fact, the last time he could think of one that was close to this sort of intensity had been back in his first year. Back before he had stopped fighting the them just to get the assaults over with quicker. But tonight he had places to go and people to run away with. Tonight he hadn't had time to wait for the hungry stomachs to prevail and the tempers to be assuaged with the pounding of flesh. Tonight he let his pride and impatience get the better of him and had paid for landing too many punches and too many verbal taunts.

The laughter was fading and Sirius cracked an eye to see how far off his tormentor were. He was rewarded with a boot to the face and then the sound of running feet. This time, he waited until there was nothing but silence before he cracked the same eye. Or attempted to. The swelling was immediate and he could see nothing but a blurry strip of nothingness out of his right eye. With a concerted effort, he opened the other one and when the world did not start spinning, he pushed himself up and leaned back against the wall. Sooner or later, Alice would come to him, but he needed to find the strength to go to her to minimize the chance of her not finding him until after dinner. Too many variables to go wrong in that situation.

With silent grunts so as not to draw any more attention to himself, Sirius pushed himself up using the wall as a support. He quickly found that his arm was useless and he tried to slam it back into place, once again using the wall; however, he lacked the necessary strength and only succeeded in sending himself back to the floor with a cry of pain. It took him two more attempts before he was able to get himself upright again and the trip to the lower floor where he and Alice had agreed to meet seemed to take him an eternity, but when he was finally in sight of the hidden door, Sirius forced himself to stand up straighter and walk of his own volition to the entrance. Unable to use his right arm, it took him too long to extract his wand from its protective casing inside his robes and by the time he had withdrawn it, he barely had the energy to cast the requisite spell to unlock the charms Alice used to protect its location.

"Sorry." He managed to give her a lopsided grin before he slid down the wall inside their hiding place. "I was--" he began but couldn't finish and instead simply let out a long breath. "Sorry," he said again.

Alice put a hand over her mouth to hold in the sob that threatened to erupt out as she took in the appearance of the boy now only barely sitting up. She had never seen him beaten this badly before. His eyes were just slits, his lips split in several places and she didn't even want to see the blood seeping from his ear. There was mud on his shirt, a sure sign that he'd been kicked so there would be trauma to his ribs.

 _Triage_ , she reminded herself. _Don't think of him as Sirius but as someone who needs your help. Help him first and then you can cry over him._

First things first, she needed to reduce the swelling on his face so that she could see what exactly she was dealing with here. There was blood everywhere but she wasn't as concerned with that as she might have been if he was still coherent but even his uneven ramblings had quieted. She would have rather had him telling her that he was sorry than the glassy stare that he was displaying now. The whole thing was making her hands quiver with stress that her spell was a little stronger than she'd intended, sending the swelling down so quickly that she nearly dropped her wand. It had been stronger than normal, she knew, but the speed wasn't part of the intended action.  
Now she needed to get the blood wiped away before she started fixing him. Instead of sacrificing a clean shirt, she took out her wand and reduced his already dirty shirt to strips of cloth that just fell off him. It would be easier than trying to get it off him. After she set the material to disinfecting, she inspected his chest. His shoulder was out of joint and it was very possible that he had broken ribs.

"Can you take a deep breath for me, love?" When he tightened his lips over his teeth at the first attempt, she had her answer. The bruising was already magnificent but that was the least of her worries. He was going to lose consciousness when she tried to get that shoulder in place, she could already tell. In fact, she was surprised he was still alert.

Going back to her bag, she began unpacking several of the much smaller packages she'd so carefully laid out only a few hours earlier. Taking out the blanket, she spelled it back to its original size and spread it out next to Sirius. It would have been nice to have brought that cot, after all, but she'd decided against it at the last second. When she finally had it to her liking, she knelt in front of him once again.

"We're going to get you down on this blanket and I want you to tell me what happened. Specifically, how many of them there were. Names would be nice, as well." She knew each of the tactics that his different tormentors took so she would be able to better diagnosis some of the things she couldn't readily see. "If you get those questions answered, I'll see if I can't find something for the pain. Think you're up for it?"

Sirius tried to follow along with her but her words were becoming muddled as the pain took hold of his body. As he was pretty certain she had asked about how many had worked him over this time, he wheezed out, "Five." And though he couldn't recall if she had actually asked for the names, he knew from the past that knowing the who had helped her treat him more efficiently, so he added, "Evans." He was forced to take another breath after just the one word and he found it more difficult to breathe, telling him that there must be something off internally and not just these physical things he could already feel. It suddenly occurred to him that he ought to provide her the more important names. Evans was the least of his worries as the boy was probably only responsible for a few of the more minor bruises, nothing that would help Alice. She needed better information.

He took a shallow breath and tried to put them in order of who usually did the most significant damage. Though he hadn't seen who it was that had put a boot in his face, there was one who liked to use his feet and Sirius didn't blame him as his punches weren't as strong as his legs were. It was just smart fighting on the big lump's part, and probably the only smart thing he ever did. "Bulstrode." This time his breath came out more as a wheeze. Sweet Merlin, when had he started wheezing? Sirius tried to find Alice's form and focused on the blurry outline of his best friend. "Wilkes." Yes, it was usually Wilkes that went for Sirius's core. The bastard. "Trave--" He stopped and let the eye that wasn't already swollen shut fall close. There was a brief moment of worry that he hadn't actually said Travers's name aloud, but then he remembered the top of the blurry form nodding so he must have told her. As for the fifth member of this particular team... for the life of him, he couldn't recall if the fifth person had been Cabrera or Gelson. Trying to place the face on the fifth form in his mind just made his already spinning head hurt worse.

It also seemed like too much work to explain that they had waited for him outside of the library when he went to return the book that Madame Meadows had insisted he read. He hadn't been paying as much attention as he had expected them to be at dinner already. He should have been more attentive. He shouldn't have fought back so hard. There were a lot of shouldn't haves tonight, but none of that mattered now. All that mattered was that they had missed their opportunity to flee from this hell-hole and it was his fault. They'd have to wait until Sirius was somewhat recovered now.

The heaviness was setting in, but he fought off the urge to surrender to the darkness. Alice didn't like it when he passed out and he didn't want to worry her anymore tonight. "Shoulder," he muttered in an almost inaudible voice. The more he helped her, the quicker she could help him and the quicker she healed what she could, the quicker he could curl up next to her and sleep. Perhaps she'd even help him change to the form that would feel slightly less pain than this one.

"Yes, yes. I'm getting to that." Alice situated herself nearly parallel with his prone body. As she took hold of his hand, she put one of her feet in his arm pit and took a deep breath before pulling with all her might. All she could hope, as the arm slipped back into the proper alignment, was that she hadn't done more damage to his ribs.  
She checked that he was still breathing, trying not to be worried that his eyes had rolled back. Now that he was unconscious, she needed to check on the ribs. There was nothing she could do about them other than to put them into place and keep them away from his lungs. Right now, she would give her left leg to have some Skele-Gro but there was no way she dared go near the Infirmary. They'd be staking out that whole area of the castle, waiting for Sirius to show up. She would have to get them in place and bind him up, letting nature do most of the healing.

Of course, she reasoned, the change his body went through from human to dog might help him out. The only problem was that she wasn't sure how the dog would react to the pain she kept inflicting on him. In this small of space, she didn't dare make the dog angry or want to lash out. It was an idea, though.

Alice set about doing all she could do to heal his body before binding his aligned ribs with the strips of his shirt, making them tight as possible. She wiped away all the blood and dirt, soothing the bruised areas so that they would be gone by morning. Now all she could do was wait. After tucking the blanket in around him, she sank down to the floor, pulling his head into her lap. He was conscious, but only just barely. Until he was able to tell her where everything else hurt, she didn't dare let him change. Instead, she ran her hand through his hair and began recounting her favorite story.

"One day, we're going to have a house. Not a very big one, mind you. Just something where we can be comfortable. There will be a huge yard, though, and close to a forest so you can go for long runs." She kept up the ramblings, shaking him every so often so that he didn't slip too deeply into sleep. Normally she wouldn't be quite this detailed of the story she'd told often enough as they dreamed about a life that wasn't this one, but she had a lot of hours to fill.

Nearly ten hours after he stumbled through the door, he shifted in a way that told her he was awake more than he'd been. "What hurts?" she asked, pushing away the tiredness that was trying to pull her down into sleep.

It was a harsh reality to come awake to, but the softness beneath his head provided him with the comfort of knowing that he was at least safe. Not nearly as safe as he'd been in the dream, but safe enough. It was his favorite dream, the one he had even when in his animal form. The house they shared was modest by Black standards, but the land they backed to was perfect for bounding and hunting and playing in either human or animal form. And the fireplace... the fireplace was his favorite part of the house. That was where he and Alice slept after long walks through the autumn leaves. It was where Alice read to him and trimmed his hair. It warmed not only their bodies, but it healed their hearts and the wounds this life had left on their souls. If only they were there now and this had all just been a nightmare from a lifetime forgotten. But that wasn't the reality of today and in the here and now, Alice was needing his attention so she could heal him. He needed to focus.

There was no need to move to be reminded of the trauma his body had just endured, or the pain it brought with it. What hurt was everything, but even in this state, Sirius knew that she wanted to know what else she could treat so he took stock of each injury and its threshold of pain now as compared to before. His face didn't hurt nearly as much as it had, but when he tried to open his eyes, the room swayed and his head exploded in pain. Perhaps she had just given him something for the pain and it was wearing off, though he couldn't recall drinking anything. In truth; however, he couldn't recall much after her taking his hand to- oh yes, he remembered the agony of Alice yanking his shoulder back into place. Pretty much everything after that was a blank though, so he reasoned that he must have blacked out at that point. Still, he tried to roll his shoulder to test that theory. As terrible an idea as that had been, the fire that shot through his core told him that the worst of his injuries were mostly isolated.

He turned his head so that her thigh could stifle the majority of his groans and when the pain had subsided to only a sharp stabbing versus a fire spreading over his body, Sirius sighed. "Ribs," he muttered, his face still buried in her legs. "And my head."

For a moment, when he started moaning, Alice almost lost her resolve not to cry. To see him in this kind of pain was more than she could bear at the moment. It had been a hard decision not to give him anything for the pain but he'd been too out of it to care. Now she didn't have the option to wait to see if he could pull through this without anything. The problem would be the dosage. There was something wrong in his head but she had no way of knowing what it was. She could fix a bruise until it was impossible to tell that any trauma had happened there but she could not see under the skin or through bones.

Stretching over to her bag without jostling him too much, Alice pulled out the bottle with the precious potion that she'd pilfered from Madam Pomfrey's stores a couple of months ago. They'd been planning this get away for almost a year now, talking through every possibility they might encounter out in the open. This had never been the use she had expected to be using it for, nor the location. As it was, though, they could hide out here for at least a week while Sirius healed. She knew she would need to make an appearance now and then but she wasn't going to let Sirius leave this room until they were ready to run once again. This had progressed too far to let the tormentors have another chance to finish the job. The next time they would kill him.

If they did, she would die right along with him. It sounded melodramatic, even to her teenage sentimentality, but it was true. They were too strongly bound together because of this daily coping to be separated now.

"Here's the pain potion, love. Just a bit to take the edge off the pain. Anything more and I'm afraid of how your head will take it." It took a painful moment to get him up enough so that he could swallow during which time Alice forgot that she wasn't going to cry. By the time he was laying flat once again, her face was wet. She surged to her feet and began to go through the bags as if she'd never seen the contents before, trying to pull herself together before she started sobbing and gave herself away.

She was crying. That much Sirius was aware of, but he couldn't make himself force his body to move right now. He couldn't force himself to endure the pain, even for Alice. He closed his eyes against the feelings of selfishness threatening to overwhelm him and tried to relax enough to let the potion do its job. Once the pain was less, he could comfort her. After a painful deep breath, he could feel some of the tension ebbing away, and when his body was rising and falling softly in even breaths, Sirius became aware that the sounds in the room had changed. Alice was no longer rummaging through their bags, but she wasn't near him either. He opened his eyes and realized he had been asleep again. He also realized that his head had not exploded in pain. Progress, he decided, even though he knew it was probably more a mask than a solution.

Deciding to test the other injury, Sirius rolled to his side, groaned, and then pushed himself to a sitting position despite the way his ribs protested the action. Alice was sitting against the opposite wall, watching him intensely. Though, he noted, she looked exhausted. He glanced around the room and noticed that everything was neatly packed once again and the room was free of anything that might have given away its use as a make-shift infirmary. He wondered if she had just spelled everything away or if she had been out of the room while he'd been sleeping. He also wondered how long he had been out and if she had slept at all during that time. From the way she looked, he doubted it but he would never tell her that.

"Come here, Alice," he said quietly. Without hesitation, she was next to him, but as she settled in, Sirius frowned. With his injuries, he couldn't adjust so that he could wrap her in his arms and reassure her. It took more effort than he wanted to admit, but slowly, he turned and placed a kiss on her temple. "Thank you," he whispered against her skin. "I'm sorry." He was sorry for a lot of things; for ruining their escape plan, for forcing her into this life, for taking away her education, but mostly for making her cry. He never wanted to fail Alice and he felt as if this night, though it could very well be the next day as he had no idea what time it was, was one giant failure on his part. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

"Stop saying that like we can't do something about this." He'd been muttering it for the last few hours, even his subconscious feeling as if he needed to be forgiven for something that had never been his fault. It broke her heart to hear her saying those words. "It worked out for the best. There was a thunderstorm last night. We wouldn't have made it nearly far enough to be undetected. They did us a favour."

Sirius snorted and regretted it. "Always an optimist," he whispered. They were silent for a while, long enough for Sirius to think she might have drifted off. It gave him the excuse he needed not to say what needed to be said, but then Alice was moving and reaching into a bag to withdraw a box of sweet rolls and he knew he would have to say it now before he lost his nerve. Besides, they could get the conversation out of the way and then they could both sleep some.

He accepted the roll Alice handed him and plucked a chunk off. Only when the food hit his stomach did he realize how hungry he was. After he'd finished half the roll, which was slower than Sirius normally ate, he finally spoke. "Do we have anything to repair my ribs? I won't be fit to travel for some time, Alice, and we can't stay here for that long."

Alice worried at her lip. She had been gone from this room far longer than she had meant to be last night after he slipped into his uneasy sleep. There had been several "guards" placed around the castle and she'd had to change into a bird several times to keep from being spotted. It riled up the portraits to have a bird flapping around so she didn`t stay in that form for long but it had been worth it this time to see what was waiting for them

"Your ribs will most definitely need to be healed in some fashion but I have no way to get the potion out of the cupboard and we don't dare take you up there." When he started to protest, she shook her head and frowned. "They're waiting for you. Three or four boys are stationed at several intervals throughout the castle, waiting to see what direction you come from. They know you need to see Madam Pomfrey so they're biding their time. I have no idea how long they'll decide to keep this up. I have a feeling that I'll be detained if I'm caught, just to see if you can be pulled from hiding. We're going to have to sit this one out."

Well that changed the game, didn't it? It had been a long time since he'd needed to see a Healer that wasn't Alice and back then, the boys hadn't been waiting for him. They preferred to break him when he was whole; it gave them more time to work out their aggression.

Sirius leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Alice was the only way they could flush him out and it was a shame that somebody had finally figured that out. He would kill for Alice and in his current state, he was more likely to die trying than actually do any rescuing. Yet, at some point, they were going to need to leave this room. From what he remembered them packing, they didn't have enough supplies to keep them here for more than a week. Without a potion or something, his ribs would not even be close to healing by that time.

"I wonder how long they'll wait before they give up? Or lose some sort of interest. And how long before we're missed?" While they were safe in this hiding spot, Sirius knew they needed to move. Not today perhaps, but soon. "Do you remember that room that we came upon earlier this year? The old potions lab that you were certain was in the same place as that old professor's quarters we found last year? Do you remember how to get there? Perhaps there's a potion in one of those old books that will we can brew that will help me heal?"

When Alice couldn't get the potion she knew Sirius needed, she'd known this conversation would happen. She'd known and nearly started to hyperventilate. In this moment, she could feel her chest starting to tighten all over again. It was one thing to do a charm or spell. Those were things she could practice and perfect until she knew that when she used them, they would work. Potions were always so nebulous to her. One pinch too much of any of the ingredients and the whole thing could explode in a shower of red sparks. It could kill Sirius to drink anything she made. She only had once chance with a potion like that. It was too much pressure.

Yet, it was something he needed. Even if they weren't desperate to leave, he would need something more than the little bit of pain potion she had in her bag, ready to be doled out in bits and bobs in case they had greater need of it tomorrow or the day after.

How did he stay so calm? Alice felt like she had a world of worry on her shoulders. All she'd done since he came through that door was fret about one thing or another. She couldn't even allow herself to enjoy the fact that they were together because she was counting each of his breaths, worrying that the next one would be the last.

"You want me to kill you?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm. "Skele-Gro is a complex potion that requires years of training and... and I can't do it." Covering her face with her hands, Alice tried to remember how to breathe properly. There weren't many other choices. It was this or finding another way to the Infirmary that would have to be barricaded to keep out the threat. She knew she most definitely did not have that kind of stamina in her. It would be insanity to even try. Really, just trying to get to the room he was talking about would be a tough undertaking.

She took a deep breath, trying in vain to keep herself from falling apart. "But we don't have much choice, do we?"

"No. We do not," he said quietly, once again feeling the guilt of what he had done. The amount of pressure Alice put on herself had not gone unnoticed over the years, and he had only added to it by getting himself seriously injured at the moment they were meant to be free of all of this nonsense.

Sirius moved his hand but since she was still covering her face and reaching up to her hands was not an option, he simply laid his hand over her thigh and squeezed. " _We_ can do it, Alice. Together. Like we always do." He turned and looked at her, offering as much of his cocky smile as he could when she dropped her hands and met his eyes. "I think we've shown there is nothing we cannot do when we work together."

As much as she wanted to hold onto this bitterness, it was impossible when Sirius looked at her like this. It didn't matter that he was battered and bruised, his face in need of another spell to reduce the discolored skin that still showed a shadow of the bruises that had been there, or that she was more tired than she had ever been before. They had each other.

"Together," she repeated, taking his hand in both of hers. "But not just yet. You need another dose of the pain potion."

Pain potion only so I am able to get back into the prone position," he told her, holding his grin in place. "I fear that will not be a pleasant experience for either of us." With a stifled groan, he motioned for her to retrieve the potion in question. Sirius was not surprised when she withdrew it from her pocket.

After she had tipped a set dosage of the vial into his mouth, they awkwardly moved until he was once more lying on the blanket. "You should come lie down and get some rest yourself, Alice. We'll both need your strength later today."

She wanted so much to say that she didn't need the sleep but she did. Either she could watch him breath from across the room, counting the seconds between each rise and fall of his chest, or she could feel him breath by laying out next to him. At this point, there wasn't much point fighting to stay awake. Things would look better if she could concentrate and plan, two things she couldn't do at the moment.

Very carefully so that she didn't jostle him, Alice stretched out next to him. After fighting a yawn and struggling to find a comfortable way for her hip to be pressed against the hard stone of the floor, she brushed his hair back from his forehead. "One day we're going to look back at this and laugh. I'm looking forward to that day."

"I don't know about laugh, but one day we'll be free of all of this," he told her, fighting against the pull of sleep. He was looking forward to that day. That day when they could just be and not have to worry about what sort of threat might be lying around the next corner. In that hopefully near future, Alice would not have to constantly be worried about him, fearful of losing him and he would not have to worry about the day when they would use her against him. "Free sounds so lovely," he whispered, losing the battle and letting his eyes drift close.

"Doesn't it just," she replied, continuing to smooth her fingers over the contours of his face. His eyes were always the first thing she noticed when she looked at him but it was really his whole face that she loved. Whatever horrible genetics his mother and father had, they had created a beautiful son, both inside and out.  
After his breathing smoothed out, she let her own eyes slide shut. It was only a few breaths later that she was joining him in sleep.

***

Sirius hated when Alice was practical. He really did. At the moment, she was using logic to explain why it would be a stupid idea for him to just go with her to the room instead of letting her go and scope out the best route for them to take. While he knew that she was right on all accounts, he hated the idea of her leaving this room and risking one of the meat heads getting their paws on her. This entire situation was one giant of his own making and he'd be damned if he was going to risk Alice's life. Again. At least if they went together, he would take the attention and give Alice an opportunity to escape. Of course, knowing her as he did, she wouldn't leave him which would just defeat the purpose.

"All right," he hissed in exasperation. "You do not need to keep telling me how injured I am. I understand that much. Every time I take a breath I'm reminded." If he could have, he would have pinched the bridge of his nose where a headache was forming despite the pain potion she had just given him. She opened her mouth and Sirius shook his head. "I understand the situation, Alice. There's no need to explain it again. That does not mean I have to like it." He sighed and let his head fall back against the wall. "I just wish there was another way." He wished there was somebody they could trust to help them in this situation. The only person they could rely on would not be easily swayed to helping them escape. She'd done everything in her power to convince them that running was not going to solve their problems. For their part, they had let her believe she had been successful.

"I wish we had a way to commuincate, Wren. So that I'll know you're safe," he finally said in a low, tired voice.

"You just have to trust me. I'm not going to do anything rash. Just a quick look around to make sure where everyone is." She knelt beside him, her hands framing his face. If she'd had her preference, she would have wanted him beside her. Going out there now without him seemed wrong but she knew she couldn't protect both of them. Not without making this situation infinitely worse than it already was. "I'm going to leave the lights on but you need to sleep again. Your eyes still aren't right. I don't like that."

She kissed the spot on his cheek that still hadn't healed. For all that she could help him, she still couldn't heal him entirely. Not on her own. When they got out of this, she never wanted to use these spells ever again. As much as Sirius told her she had a talent for healing, she didn't like having to use this sort of magic. All it did was remind her of how much she _couldn't_ heal. Death would always be stronger, she reasoned. Why fight with it? Living life to its fullest would be the only way she was going to defeat it and she meant to enjoy life outside of these castle walls.

As always, one kiss led to another and she'd worked her way down to the side of his mouth. "I love you, Sirius Black," she whispered, sure he was mostly asleep at the moment. "I always have."

Sirius knew he must be dreaming because Alice never put her lips so close to his. It was only in his dreams, the ones he _never_ shared with her, that Alice declared her love for him. Sure, he knew she loved him as she knew he loved her, but he was certain it was more in that family sort of way. Why else would she put her reputation and safety on the line for the likes of him? He would take it, though, because the alternative was too painful to even imagine.

"And I you, my little Wren," he returned as he always did in his dreams. He reached up and cupped her face, guiding her lips to his. "I always will." Even in this state somewhere between consciousness and dream, Sirius knew that to be the truth. He would love Alice McKinnon until the day he died, even if she chose not to love him once their lives changed.

He mumbled some words that always left her guessing at what he was saying to her, not that she ever asked him when he was awake and cognizant, right before she pulled away. She'd had her say, repeating her mantra to him so that his body would heal faster. Now she couldn't hold off the inevitable any longer.

The school had quieted down for the evening. It had been over twenty-four hours since either she or Sirius had been seen but that didn't mean that the Slytherin boys had let down their guard any. They were tenacious when it came to pain. She shivered once again at the thought of how close Sirius had come to being damaged. While he was worried about his ribs, she couldn't help but feel nauseous every time she saw his blown pupil.

"He needs more help than you can give him," she whispered tersely, trying to scare herself into moving faster. She was close to the Hufflepuff Common Room but that didn't frighten her. As long as she steered clear of any of them, they would leave her alone. They'd learned to survive by baring their teeth against anyone and everyone that got near. Not even the Slytherin boys that tormented Sirius dared take on a Hufflepuff.

But she was still near the Slytherin area. It was a part of the castle she knew well, though. For years now, she and Sirius had found nearly every hole and room that would hide them. She was confidant that she could get around the area without complaint. It was the upper areas of the castle that she was unsure of. The Infirmary was a location that could be easily guarded so she would be sure to stay away from there. If there was anyone near the room they were seeking, she didn't know exactly what she would do about it. All she could do was hope that no one had ever had discovered the room.

Her hopes were dashed nearly as soon as she started. With one foot on the backstair to the second floor, she caught a familiar scent. There was nowhere she could run as the shadow proceeded the teacher around the corner.

There was something that had felt very off to Dorcas over the last few weeks, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. When she had talked it over with Gideon, expressing her fears that the two young people were about to flee the castle walls, he had simply told her to keep a closer eye on the young prince. She had tried to do just that but it wasn't as easy as Gideon seemed to think it was. There were times when he and Miss McKinnon would disappear for hours and sometimes into the next day and there was no finding them until they wanted to be found. This was one of those times. And one of those times when she really wished she had a good lock on them so she could get to the Beach House to see that Marlene was all right with her own eyes.

The problem was, Dorcas was pretty certain this castle held a number of secret passages and rooms and she knew of only one. Which had turned up blank, as it always did when she was looking for them. She was on her way back to her quarters to contact Gideon again and get an update on her friend when she rounded a corner and came face to face with one of the two people she was looking for.

"Miss McKinnon," she said. Dorcas frowned, the feeling of relief draining as she took in the girl's distressed appearance. "Are you all right, Alice?"

Alice just stared at the teacher, her heart pounding so hard she wouldn't have been surprised if it could be heard vibrating through the hall. "I... I... I'm fine," she stuttered, trying to come up with a cover story that would get Madam Meadows off on her merry way. "And you?"

Dorcas's brows knit together as she studied the young woman in front of her. "I'm worried about a friend, but otherwise, I am well. Thank you for asking," she said as she moved closer to the girl. "You sure you're feeling well, Alice?" Though she was quite certain she already knew the answer to that. The girl looked as if she had not slept in a week. "You look as if you might be coming down with something. Perhaps I should escort you to the infirmary."

"Not unless you want to kill me," Alice muttered, ducking her head so that she could practice looking like a person who didn't need any help and should be allowed to go merrily on her way. A little louder, she replied, "You're right. I haven't slept well lately. The stress of..." and it was in that moment that her mind went completely blank of every possible excuse she could have made. She had been planning on saying something about the stress of school but then she realized that it had been WEEKS since she'd been to a single class. That was pretty common knowledge but what were they going to do? Kick her out? That was highly unlikely but she'd received several letters from her uncle lately, admonishing her to try harder in her coursework.

Then she did the next worst thing that she could possibly do in this situation. Before she could stop herself, Alice burst into tears yet again. If it hadn't been such a relief, she would have been embarrassed.

Dorcas just barely caught the words Alice was muttering, but it was enough to tell her what was going on. With a sinking feeling, Dorcas reached out and was more than a little shocked when the normally stoic Alice McKinnon broke down into tears.

She took the crying girl by the arm and quickly ushered her into the nearest room, a cupboard used by the house elves. When they were behind closed doors, Dorcas took Alice by the shoulders and bent so they were on the same eye level. Alice once again ducked her head, breaking the eye contact. Dorcas took a deep breath. "Alice," she began softly. "Alice, I cannot help you if you will not let me. Please. Tell me what is going on. You cannot go to the infirmary which tells me that the young Mister Black has once again had a run in with those--" Well, monsters was the right word, but she couldn't very well go around calling her students monsters even if was true. "Those housemates of his."

Dorcas lifted Alice's face by the chin and looked the girl straight in the eyes. "Does he need Madam Pomfrey's attention?" When Alice shook her head, Dorcas continued, "Yes, I understand he cannot go there, but I have other resources at my disposal. _If_ he needs it."

Alice wasn't sure what a bunch of books could do to help Sirius. While Madam Meadows had always been helpful in getting her the books she requested and making sure that their hiding place at the back of the library went undetected, she didn't seem like she could be much help. The teacher was taller than Alice herself but she wasn't taller than the growing Sirius, who had suddenly shot up over the past year so that she barely came to his shoulder when they were both standing. If he couldn't take on the tormentors, neither could one teacher.

"They broke some of his ribs and there's some sort of trauma in his skull because one of his eyes is strange. There doesn't appear to be a concussion and he's been able to think and talk without any sort of stress. It just worries me." Alice crossed her arms over her chest, daring the professor to be able to help her. She knew it was a long shot but it did feel good to say it out loud.

Dorcas swallowed. Good heavens these boys were getting rougher and rougher with every attack. Sometimes, Dorcas wondered if they remembered that he was still the only son of the wretched Walburga Black. The woman could, and likely would, make each of their lives worth nothing more than the sludge on the bottom of the Great Lake if they killed her son. No matter how much she resented Sirius for the choices he had made in his life, she was still delusional enough to believe that he could be _reformed_.

"And I suppose this happened yesterday evening?" Dorcas asked. When Alice nodded, so did Dorcas. "All right. You've probably already set his ribs, you're pretty resourceful with the healing arts. Of course, given the years of torment, you've had to be." Dorcas was talking more to herself than to the younger woman as she began to pace the small space. "And you cannot bring Sirius to the infirmary because it is not as secure as wherever you currently have him." Dorcas knew better than to ask where that was. Alice was pretty tight lipped and Dorcas was rather amazed the girl had spoken this much. But what was the plan then? How did she plan on getting Sirius the help he quite obviously needed? That was something she had to ask even if Alice refused to answer. If need be, she'd tail the girl back to whatever hiding hole they were using.

"So what is your plan? Were you going to try and sneak into the infirmary? Or perhaps Slughorn's stores? How were you planning on helping him without the proper instruction and potions?"

It was interesting to that Madam Meadows mentioned the two places in the whole castle that Alice hated above all else. She had absolutely no use for Madam Pomfrey, although her store of potions and tinctures was second to none, and hadn't gone to the Infirmary since Second Year other than to steal needed healing ointments from time to time.

And Slughorn. The bag of wind was so full of himself and his importance in this school that he did no actual teaching. Well, maybe he did to the students he deemed worthy but that was only one-fourth of the school, and then only the best and the brightest of Slytherin had his true attention. She'd also found out very early in her time here that his stores were the most heavily guarded of any other in the school. There was no way in and she knew that for a certainty because she'd tried time and time again.

"Neither of those places, actually. But you said you could offer me help. I'd like to know what help you might possibly be able to offer me. If it's either of those places, I will have to politely decline your help. I'm not looking to die and I'm not stupid."

She knew her words were cold but she tried to keep her tone as polite as possible. It would be stupid to make a teacher angry with her. To the others, she was just a worthless castoff of the McKinnons, not worth any of their time. She couldn't get rid of this woman, not even when she tried to play the part of the silly girl. Now she wished she'd tried harder.

Dorcas raised a brow, her lips quirking slightly, but she held back the smile as Alice might misinterpret that gesture. Now that Alice was at least open to the idea of letting somebody else help them, Dorcas wanted to proceed cautiously. The girl did not want Poppy's help, though why that was, Dorcas couldn't imagine. The woman was by no means on the same level as Loah as far as healing, but she'd seen the woman work miracles in her own right. Horace wasn't going to be much help, but he had great supply of potions supplies but Alice didn't think she could get there. Dorcas could, though. And she would. Horace was easy enough to manipulate when you plied him with the right sort of incentive.

"I'm employed at this school, Alice, which means I have access to places that you do not. At all times of the day or night. Without being detained by bullies." She wasn't penetrating the girl's defenses. It was frustrating that she had a hoard of resources at her disposal and Alice and Sirius had never wanted any part of that. And now that she couldn't offer the one Healer in all of Europe who could fix any malady no matter its seriousness, now Alice was willing to let her help. Still, there were other things Dorcas could offer. It was just a matter of finding the ones that Alice would accept. "I have been trained in field medicine so I can assist you in your care of the young Sirius." Sure, her skills were rusty and she had never actually had to perform the things she'd learned in a true triage situation, but she retained all of that knowledge and was ready to put it to good use.

"And if you need somewhere more comfortable than whatever nook you two are hiding in, I am more than willing to offer you my quarters. Those boys would not be allowed in there, and neither are any of the professors." The protection spells on her quarters were more secure than even Professor Merrythought's. "I assure you it is more secure than wherever you currently have him." She smiled softly. "And if you do not wish to move him, I can always enhance whatever spells you are currently using in case you are followed." Alice's face seemed to close off so Dorcas switched tracks. "Not my quarters, all right." She thought for a moment as she tried to figure out the girl's plan. Where would she get supplies if it wasn't from Poppy or Horace? A smile crossed her lips and she met Alice's hard gaze once more. Of course these two who had been forced to explore every nook and cranny of this school would probably have stumbled upon the Room of Requirement. "There is another place in this castle that would be better suited to your needs. I'm surprised you are not already there, though in an emergency, it might be difficult to access. It might be just what you need, Alice, and if you need assistance getting there, perhaps I can be of some use after all. Have you ever heard of the Room of Requirement?"

"Room of Requirement?" Alice tried to think of all the places in the castle that she knew of. It wasn't a name she'd heard of but then she and Sirius didn't use names for places so much as directions. The one place she could think of that might fit the name was the very place she was headed. What a coincidence.

"Up on the seventh floor?" It sounded so far away when she said it like that. "Yes, I've heard of it. Do you think it can be helpful?"

This time Dorcas smiled fully. "I do. It's exactly as its name suggests. It becomes whatever you need it to be. And it comes fully stocked. It's the most amazing thing. Sometimes, it becomes my old flat, complete with the antique writing desk and ragged but still comfortable arm chair I like to read in over the summers."

Of course, just because something could be helpful didn't mean it would be easily accessible. "I do not believe it is as secure as my quarters would be but it will likely have everything you need to help him. And yourself. Besides, we can add layers of charms to make safer until Sirius is healed." And then she would insist that Gideon come and talk to these two. This might just be the thing that sends them running from this castle and she wouldn't have any way of stopping them this time. The beatings were getting too severe and nobody could protect either of these children inside these walls. Even her.

Dorcas pushed that thought away for the time being. She began pacing, chewing on her bottom lip as she talked to herself once again. "Getting you both there is going to be the problem though. Let's see... Sirius is probably not going to be moving very quickly and traveling with me will only draw attention to you." Merlin, she wished Quinn were here. Of all the people she knew, Quinn O'Mara was the best at these sorts of logistical situations. "Your best shot will probably be during the Quidditch match on Saturday, but you'll still have people to contend with." She stopped moving and looked back at the young girl. "Can Sirius wait that long?" Sweet Rowena, Dorcas wished Alice would at least be open to having Poppy look at Sirius's head injury. The ribs would keep and could always be broken if they had been set wrong but a head injury was so far out of Dorcas's range of abilities and she didn't know what the time table on such injuries was. That worried her. She'd have to contact Loah to get his opinion.

"Two days?" An eternity but she had no choice. It was a good plan, moving during a long awaited Quidditch match. No matter what else was happening in and around the castle, the Slytherin house would be required to attend to cheer on their team. It was exactly the diversion they needed. "I don't think it'll be a problem. In the meantime, do you think you could get me some of the tincture of feverfew that Madam Pomfrey keeps on the second shelf of the large cabinet?"

Though Dorcas still didn't like the idea of Sirius waiting around with a head injury nobody was really treating, she knew that Alice would not agree to having Poppy come to them. Besides, having the nurse leave the infirmary would only raise the suspicions of these irritating boys. This would have to do for now and hopefully Loah would have answers for her.

With a nod, she said, "What about food? Have you been eating? Do you have enough pillows and blankets? Where would you like me to bring this stuff to?"

It couldn't hurt to have some more blankets and they didn't need food but she couldn't very well tell the teacher that they were right by the kitchens so that food wasn't an issue. It would free her up from having to sneak around the lower levels of the castle.

"More blankets would be nice. And we could use more food. I have trouble getting protein. They monitor the meat more than the bread." Their second meeting was obvious but she pretended to give it some thought as if she was actually thinking of telling her where they were staying. "I'll meet you back at the library. Do you think you need more than a few hours?"

"Not at all," Dorcas replied immediately. Though taking food from the school's kitchens was risky, Rosmerta would be willing to provide her with anything she asked. All it would take was a trip to the owlery to give the woman some advance notice. "Do you think that you'll be able to get to and from the library undetected? Wouldn't it be easier if I came to you?" She knew the answer but she still had to ask the question.

Alice just smiled. She had to give the teacher points for trying. The woman was nothing if not for persistent. "The library is one of the easiest places to get to. They Slytherins don't think it's good for much. And no, I'd rather not stay there. We're fine where we are." _And you aren't going to find where that is by trying to follow me back there_.

"Fair enough, Alice. The items will be waiting for you in the library in three hours. If I am not there, they will be tucked away where you and Sirius normally seek refuge in there." For a moment, Dorcas just continued to look at the girl, wishing she could do more to help them. Wishing that she had just pulled them from this torturous place years ago but that would draw the wrath of the McKinnons and of Black. Neither was a good option. They had survived this long and Dorcas had to continue to trust that they knew what they were doing.

"Alice," she finally said. "I am glad that you're allowing me to help you. I hope that you know that you can trust me with anything. I am here to help you. That is not true of all of the professors and staff I know, but I am _here_ ," she placed extra emphasis on the word and paused to ensure Alice was looking directly at her, "to help you." It was the truth after all. The only reason Dorcas was in this school was to be in place to watch over the Dark Prince, and when it became evident that his beliefs were not the same as his mother's, to aide him in whatever fashion she could. "I always have been and I always will be on your side, Alice." It was something she had repeated to the two students over and over, but she couldn't give up now.

As often as she had been told that, Alice still didn't believe it. No one was on her side and everyone had turned their back on Sirius long ago. Until she actually saw something that made her change her mind, Alice would continue looking out for her own best interests. That would always be Sirius. Always.

"Thank you," she replied, not wanting to continue this same argument with Madam Meadows. Before they could start in on the _let me help you_ conversation, Marlene opened the door and looked around. She figured she had the space of a hallway before she saw anyone in this part of the castle. That was probably how long she had before the teacher began following her.

Closing the door firmly behind her, she changed as quickly as she could into the tiny bird that could often get through the castle without anyone noticing. She had three hours before she needed to get to the library. Even though Sirius wouldn't be awake, she couldn't think of any other place she wanted to be than beside him, counting his breaths.

Dorcas sighed and began counting the amount of time it would take Alice to get around the corner. As soon as she knew the girl would be out of sight, Dorcas left the room. Right outside the door, she found a school robe and frowned as she picked it up. It was still warm. The only reason she could think of for Alice to ditch the robe was to allow for quicker maneuverability and less for somebody to grab onto. She folded the material over her arm and moved down the hall in the direction she had originally been going. The way Alice had come. When she rounded the corner; however, the hallway was empty. Still, Dorcas continued down the way, glancing down each of the corridors she passed. Nothing. That quickly she had lost her. Cara, and likely Cam, would admonish her for being outwitted by a sixteen year old but that was because they did not understand the resourcefulness these two sixteen-year-olds had been forced to find in order to stay alive.

She turned around and headed for the stairs that would take her to the owlery. There wasn't much time if she wanted to contact Loah as well. Depending on what her Healer said, she might force Alice to take her to Sirius, trust be damned. It wasn't like she had the girl's full trust as it was.

Alice decided she was going to spend the three hours doing her new favorite thing, snuggled up against Sirius' side. It took no time at all to fly back to the room and, after setting her wand to shoot off sparks and shriek like a tea kettle, she settled in next to him. It was still difficult for her to fall right to sleep, though. There were so many things that needed to be done, so many possibilities that she needed to consider.

"When we get out of here," she whispered, her fingers worrying one of the buttons on his shirt, "we'll never have to hide out in a tiny room like this. We'll be able to eat whatever we want, whenever we want. No one will ever tell us what to do or where to go. If I want to read all day on the window seat, I'll be able to read all day on the window seat. And if you want to... well, I don't know what you want to do instead of being here. It doesn't matter. Whatever you want to do, you'll be able to do. No one is going to hurt us anymore."

She yawned and closed her eyes, amazed when it seemed the alarm went off right away. It wasn't possible to roll over and pretend she didn't hear it, though. If she wasn't somewhere near the library in the next twenty minutes, Madam Meadows was sure to tear down the castle, brick by brick, looking for her. Too bad she had to leave her robe behind when she'd changed. It was just an extra bit of camouflage as she tried to get through the hallways without being noticed. The only problem that she could think of for this plan was that she wouldn't be able to change into the bird on the way back if she had all the things that she'd been promised. That could be a problem.


	12. Peace Offerings

Caradoc alternated between pushing his eggs around on the plate in a futile chase of the baked beans and stabbing his toast with his fork until the once impeccable breakfast Adi had served them looked more like some kind of mash. He had come down to breakfast in no less a foul temper than he had the previous days, in fact his mood had been quite a bit lighter when Cam had told him where he was going this morning, but all that had changed the moment he had walked into Adi's breakfast room and seen Fenwick and Marlene sitting at the end of the table. The latter was smiling in a way he had not seen her smile in the all the time she had been here. The former was looking far too proud of himself to be proper.

Cara had realized then that he should have gone with Cam to watch the practice, but there was nothing to be done for it now. Quinn and Phill had already looked up at him and he had been dumb enough to make eye contact with Q. He dropped into his place next to her and nodded at both women as Adi came behind him and set her perfect breakfast plate down for him. For her, he had at least mustered up a smile and a warm 'thank you', but the moment she tapped his head and disappeared, so did his smile.

For the first few bites of the delicious meal, Caradoc had watched Fenwick chat up Marlene out of the corner of his eye, trying to keep up with what Quinn was saying, but each time Marlene nodded or Fenwick chuckled, Caradoc found himself slipping further and further into a temper. It wasn't that he didn't like Benjy Fenwick, the man had been quite pleasant and very useful over the last several days, but he was still relatively unknown to Caradoc. He did not have enough information on Fenwick to feel comfortable with him chatting up Marlene who, in Caradoc's opinion, was still in a very vulnerable state. She was easy pickings for the likes of somebody like Fenwick.

He felt a hard stare on him and realized he was watching Fenwick outright instead of out of the corner of his eyes. He turned and met Phill's gaze. Phill. That she worked with and trusted Fenwick should be enough for Caradoc, but it wasn't. Not when the bloke was looking at Marlene like he wanted to taste something more than what was on her plate. He shook his head and then went back to his plate of breakfast stew and began picking out the larger pieces to eat.

For a time, he listened, without hearing, to the awkward conversation Q and Phill were having, and the quiet voices at the end of the table whose conversation was kept deliberately quiet. Finally, he realized that Quinn's hand had found its way to his leg and he glanced down at it and then up at his friend.

"What?" he growled and then coughed to cover it. "What?" he said again, in a much more suitable tone, though still not what one would call conversational.

"You're shaking the table with your jittery leg," she whispered, her mood alternating between painful embarrassment at Cara's dark looks and gleeful delight as she and Phill shared the responsibility of keeping the conversation going as they talked about everything under the sun. "And you're making people stare with this monster face you have in place. That's unlike you."

She wasn't happy about Marlene and Benjy all cosy at the end of the table but it was probably for different reasons than Cara had. The one thing she liked about the Beach House was that everyone was intent on working when they were there. No one brought back their dates for early morning awkwardness at the breakfast table. Quinn could have her family around her without having to watch them actually interact with other people. All that jealousy she was normally able to keep dampened down when they were out and about was clawing at her heart as she watched all this play out.

 _She walks in here and gets a guy right off the bat. Of course she does. And Cara is jealous, to boot. Of course he is. Far be it for me not to wish Marlene the best in this endeavor but she's already taken far too much of Cara's attention the last few days._

But really, what was bothering her the most was that she would never have that kind of breakfast conversation. There was no guy she even wanted to see past the first two hours of their first date, let alone sit at a table first thing in the morning and share everything and nothing as if it was the most enjoyable hour of the day. Why was it, at every turn lately, that she was reminded that this was the path she had chosen for her life, damn the consequences?

Caradoc's brows furrowed deeper as he looked at her. He hadn't realized his leg was moving at all but now that she had pointed it out, he could feel it moving underneath her hand. With a concentrated effort, he forced his leg to stop and reached down to squeeze her hand. He didn't really give a damn if people were staring at him, though. They should all be as concerned for Marlene as he was. The damn blighters. Of course, Marlene was just as much an outsider as Fenwick was so they likely weren't going to invest their time and efforts worrying about a stranger who happened to be staying with them. If Cam were here, he'd feel the same way, Cara told himself. Cam would understand since he'd been there when the woman's home imploded upon itself. He had seen the girl break. Quinn wouldn't understand; she probably thought he was jealous. Which was not the case. Even if Marlene clearly only spoke to him because he kept popping up in the infirmary with plates of food yet for Fenwick, she had left the sanctuary of Loah's workspace. He wondered how they had even come across each other in the first place and Fenwick hadn't spent any real time in the infirmary.

Quinn's gaze intensified for a moment and Cara finally relented. He always did when she looked at him like that. After a deep breath, he pulled on a smile which was probably more sarcastic than pleasant and apologized. He opened his mouth to inquire what it was they had been discussing but at that moment, Fenwick reached across Marlene and plucked a piece of fruit from the woman's bowl, and the two of them smiled as if that silly strawberry had just told some kind of joke.

"I'll be upstairs if you need me." Without glancing at Phill or back at Quinn as his resolve would only break if he saw her face, Caradoc slid out of his seat and stalked out of the room. Somewhere in this house was a Beater's bat and he thought that would do nicely to have a little chat with Fenwick. Find out his intentions, insist he let Marlene recover before he started charming his way into her pants. A growl escaped and he was glad the hallway was empty ahead of him. Forget the bat, Cara only needed the weapons he carried with him on a daily basis. He switched directions and headed for the stairs Fenwick would have to pass in order to get to his quarters or to get outside.

Phill watched as Cara walked away. She'd never thought he would be a problem when it came to Benjy and Marlene. In fact, she hadn't seen any sort of problem on the horizon for the match up. When she'd asked around about the girl, no one appeared to even know who she was. Everything she'd told Benjy had checked out and Phill had given her blessing, not that Benjy wouldn't have done exactly what he was doing right now if he hadn't gotten it. It just meant that she wouldn't think about doing what she was about to do.

"Is he going to be a problem?" she asked the girl who was staring straight ahead, her eyes wide and completely unseeing as she was lost somewhere inside. It was a long she recognised from the first time she'd ever seen her.

Quinn sighed and shrugged. "I have no idea. I'm not even sure what that was all about. As far as I know, he's just trying to help out someone he sees as needing help. I don't think it's... anything...." She shrugged again without finishing the thought.

"So if I were able to take his mind off the fact that they're together, I wouldn't necessarily be standing between something volatile?" When she saw the look on Quinn's face, Phill waved her hands violently in front of her. "No, no. Nothing like that. I swear, I didn't mean that quite how it came out. Come on. I'll explain it to both of you."

Phill grabbed Quinn's hand and drug the still frowning girl out of the room. It took her less time than she thought it would to find Cara who was standing sentry by the stairs. "I have a proposition for you and your team." She let go of Quinn's hand long enough to pull up the sleeve of her henley to show off the skin beneath that was vibrant with color and motion. "I'd rather not explain out here in the hall, if you don't mind. But I think you all might find this interesting."

Quinn shook her head as he looked up at her, shrugging to show that she had no idea where this was going.

A part of him had expected to have a run-in with Phill seeing as it would be what he would do if he were in her situation. He had not expected it to be this soon and he had not expected her to have Quinn in tow. When Quinn appeared to have no idea what was going on, Caradoc simply shook his head.

"Another time, Phill."

"One time offer, Dearborn." Phill stepped closer, this time pulling down the collar of her shirt a little bit more than was decent to show off the the strangely pulsing triune wolf. She'd watched it in the mirror just this morning, wondering if she had the courage to redo the spell so that one of the wolves wasn't unmoving. She wasn't quite ready to let go of Rusty's ink on her body.

"I show your team how they keep in constant communication with this tattoo spell I know. You agree to let Benjy see this through. My boy is not going to hurt Marlene. If Marlene hadn't agreed to this breakfast meeting, he would have left her alone." She matched Cara's scowl by narrowing her eyes and standing a little straighter. "I'm vouching for him and you know I'm good for it."

Quinn had been eying the tattoos ever since their first meeting, not that she'd seen the interesting ones that Phill kept covered. While she hadn't entirely known what to make of them, the idea of having a way of keeping track of her team appealed very much to her.

"Can we at least hear her out, Cara?" Quinn was light-headed with desire to know the spell. "Please?"

Caradoc's jaw did not loosen any as he listened to Phill's words. It was hard to argue with her vouching for her partner, but he had always liked Phill. Trusted her. And her instincts. Still, he couldn't shake the way Marlene's mind had nearly shattered and the vacant look she had in her eyes when he'd left her here alone with Loah. They were the reason all of this had been brought down on her and he wasn't sure he would be able to control himself if any more harm came to her while she was in his protection.

It was Quinn's plead that finally drew his eyes from Phill. He looked at his partner and frowned. Her eyes were wide with anticipation and he knew this spell was exactly the type of thing she had been looking for over the last few years. She wanted something more than just the necklaces and cards for communication. Something that bound the three of them together. He and Cam had promised to hear her out if she ever found a suitable solution. Caradoc would not turn her down. Clearly, Phill knew that.

"All right," he grit out. "I'm not agreeing not to question his intentions, Phill, and no amount of communication spells is going to change that. But for now, I will let him have his breakfast. And I will not interfere as long as I deem he is no threat." He met her steely gaze. "I'd do the same of you but I've seen you handle yourself just fine. Marlene is not cut from the same cloth as the two of you." He raised a brow. "I'd say that's fair."

Quinn pushed Phill out of the way so she could be the one standing nose to nose (although it really was more nose to chest for both of the girls) with Caradoc Dearborn. "She's a Ravenclaw, Caradoc. So she's not swinging her wand or her fists around. Doesn't mean she can't take care of herself. Hasn't she told you to back off in a variety of different ways lately? I bet, if she really meant it, she could have made you stay away. Don't think she's made of glass because she's pretty and seemingly helpless. If she wants to eat breakfast with Benjy, let her eat breakfast with Benjy. At least she's getting out of that damned Infirmary. Isn't that what you've wanted?"

She pushed at him, knowing her shove was only going to hurt her wrists and do nothing to move him if he didn't want to be moved, but all her sudden anger needed to go somewhere. She'd been so passive lately. It felt good to hit him, pounding her words in with each strike. "Isn't that what you've wanted? Are you just angry that you weren't the one that got her out finally? I want us to get these tattoos. If Phill wanted me to throw Marlene out the window before she told me how to do them, I would throw Marlene out the window. So back off of Marlene and Benjy."

Quinn's reaction took him off guard and for a moment, because it both shocked him and vaguely amused him, he let her pound her fists into his chest. He was used to her getting all worked up when he or Cam came home bloodied and bruised or when one of them (namely him) let an infection set in. Unlike her most recent outburst; however, there was a fire in her eyes that he hadn't seen in several months. When she continued to hit him in the same spot over and over, Caradoc finally reached down and stilled her arms. When she fought to free herself, he spun her, keeping a hold of her arms so that he had her in an embrace with her back pressed against his chest and her arms crossed in front of her. He leaned down and pressed his mouth to his ear, his voice low so that only Quinn would hear him. "Am I that prideful, Quinn? If I wanted Marlene in my bed, she'd have been there. This isn't about that." Of course, he did not need to tell Quinn that Marlene had shot him down before he'd even had a chance to try. But that was because he hadn't had a chance to put on the charm before everything went wrong. After that, Marlene had become the assignment and not somebody he might be able to shag. "And no, I do not recall her telling me to back off." He did not count, _Please stop hovering, Caradoc. I'm well enough _as being told to back off. Well, perhaps but he had stopped hovering. This was not hovering. Not really. This was just being diligent.__

 _Out loud, he said, "Neither of you were there to see her shatter. I do not think she is made of glass because she's pretty (though she definitely was that), but because I saw her break once already. In my arms no less, Quinn, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do to help her." He hated feeling helpless and he'd be damned if he was going to sit by and watch her be broken all over again. He just wanted to know the man's intentions. What was so wrong in that? He could have very well called Fenwick out right there at breakfast but that might have embarrassed Marlene. And the last thing he wanted was to send her running back to the infirmary._

 _"So blast me all you want but I will not apologize for wanting to spare her more turmoil when everything is already a complete unknown." He squeezed Quinn, kissing her cheek before releasing her. "And I said I'd let them be, now didn't I?" Mostly at least. He could not be faulted if Benjy Fenwick stepped out of line and he was forced to respond. Caradoc looked at Phill. "Shall we go to Quinn's room? Or am I not allowed to even talk to Fenwick now?"_

 _Phill regarded him thoughtfully. She'd been handed information that Benjy most definitely needed to know but she couldn't very well back out of the deal now that she'd begun. There was still time enough for both._

 _"Quinn's room. And I never said you couldn't talk to him. Just... give him today." If nothing else, the time and distance might ease the pain and anger she saw in Cara's eyes that was sure to be leveled at Benjy if they were to meet up at the moment. She knew that Benjy would scold her but good for this but it felt right to say it. "Just remember that you aren't the only people who have come upon rough times of late. She makes him smile and even I haven't seen that lately. You have my word that he won't be doing anything to hurt her. He knows a good thing when he sees it."_

 _Cara's frown did not ease much but at the reminder that The Pack had also suffered losses, these two in their midst most recently. His eyes traveled back to cloth now covering the tattoo on Phill's chest and his own chest tightened for his friend. He could not really fault Fenwick for wanting to be in the presence of somebody who eased that pain. But hurt could come in all sorts of unintentional packages. Especially when you led the sort of life that this lot, Fenwick and Phill included, led. There was nothing to be done about it now though. Phill was nothing if not loyal and would protect her partner with every weapon at her disposal, including denying Quinn this knowledge._

 _With a sigh, he moved to the side and gestured up the stairs. "For you," he said, though to which woman he was talking to, he couldn't have truly said. His eyes fell on Quinn. "Stop pouting or I might change my mind." His lips twitched slightly as they both knew he wouldn't be changing his mind, but he did not let them curl into a smile. He refused to give Quinn that much satisfaction right now._

 _Quinn rubbed her the ache in her chest. She sometimes forgot what had brought Marlene into their lives. She wasn't just another one of those girls that came and went quickly (and some not quickly enough for her liking), or that Quinn could easily ignore. "Another damn redhead," she muttered as she walked up the stairs in front of the other two. Someday there would be one redhead too many and this pain in her chest she always felt would end up being her heart just giving out on her._

 _She opened the door to her room, disengaging the spell that would keep anyone from actually entering in. Gideon didn't like when she kept the door locked but that didn't mean she couldn't put up other spells. Since she didn't keep much here, there was no clutter to pick up._

 _"Make yourselves at home." Quinn moved some chairs closer before she sank down on the bed, pulling her knees up to her chest. "My room is your room."_

 _"Even my room has more personality than this," Phill observed. "Have you thought about hanging a picture? Don't you live here?"_

 _Quinn just shrugged. "I'm not much of a room designer. Besides, I like a clean room."_

 _All Phill could do was smile. She couldn't fault that kind of logic. "Whatever you need to say to get through the day."_

 _Cara shook his head. It had been a while since he'd been in Quinn's room but he was pretty sure there had been at least one picture on the night stand. It had been taken at a Christmas dinner one of the first years they all worked together. He did not have it in a frame, instead, it was stuck to his ice box so that the three waved at him every morning before he left the house. He had a similar picture, from one of Cam's birthday parties, in a frame on his bedside table here at the Beach House._

 _Without asking what had happened to the picture or why, he used his wand and summoned that picture from the other side of the house. When he held it in his hand, Caradoc walked over and put it on her bureau. Then he turned one of the chairs around and dropped into it, folding his arms across the back of it. "There. And look how it doesn't make the room look dirty."_

 _Quinn's copy of the picture was in the same exact place on the beside table at her home. The one she'd never bothered to tell either Cam or Cara about. It had never been a good time to bring up the fact that she'd been meticulous hoarding her money for years until she finally had enough saved up for a down payment on the tiny brownstone on a busy street in Clarkson-on-Pall. The little that she owned had been moved there on the sly as she told herself that she didn't want the men thinking they needed to help her move when they had other things to deal with. Then it had been that they were too busy with other problems to help her fix the bad light switch or that there wasn't any use worrying them with her inability to get the upstairs window latch to stay in place when she put the locking spell on it. There was always a reason _not_ to tell them about her house. _

Now, she was simply too embarrassed that all this time had gone by and she'd never shared this one bit of herself with them. Every other part of her life was an open book. Why was she compelled to keep this one bit from them? And why did she feel so guilty for it?

Phill studied Quinn as the other girl studied the picture. If anything, her expression was more closed off than at any other time she'd seen her. There was a story there but she didn't have time to try to ferret it out. Besides, Quinn was the last person she needed to worry about right now.

"So, here's the deal. About five years ago, my team spent some time in the Ukraine. I don't know if you've ever been there but they have a unique brand of magic that they use. Very few of them waste their time with what we might consider every day magic. They save it up for the really big things. Another thing that they're known for, at least a certain section of the magic community, is putting the story of their life on their skin. They've figured out how to combine the two."

Without pause, Phill lifted off her long-sleeved shirt. When she was in public or around strangers, she often wore shirts that covered her up. Underneath, she had on a pale, thin undershirt that did very little to hide the fact that she had more than a few tattoos. Some were stagnant while others moved with a life of their own.

"Every single one of these means something to me." Phill pulled off the undershirt so she was clad in only her bra but she wasn't worried about offending either Cara or Quinn. It wasn't like she had much of anything to show off. "This is the one that I think is of interest to you. My triune wolf. It's hard to explain but I can feel it move. At first, it takes some getting used to." She traced her fingers over the still head, the absence of movement like a stab in the gut all over again. "It keeps track of the life force of anyone I want it to. It's just a matter of mixing some blood with the ink and saying the right grouping of words. Right now, I can tell you that Benjy isn't moving and that his heart beat is normal. It's possible to get more detail from it but we thought that might be a bit... intrusive."

Cara's worry over Quinn's odd behaviour was quickly put on the back burner as Phill started removing clothes. At first, he'd wanted to cover her back up, but the rational side of his brain reminded him that it was not a betrayal to his mate no matter how in love with the woman Gavin was. That was a long time ago. They were all different people. And there were no improper motives here. Not that these rational thoughts made it any easier to let his eyes wander over her barely clad torso as he took in all of her tattoos.

There was one that covered her side and obviously continued or started on her back. The part he could see without getting up and ogling the rest of her incredibly built body looked to be a tree. He wondered what it symbolized to her. The one he was most interested in; however, was the one with only two of the three heads moving over her chest. The one she had given them a glimpse of downstairs. Seeing it fully, it was easy to see that it symbolized the bond she and her teammates shared. All of the heads originated from one point and though they came out to form their own identity, they were forever connected. Just like he and Quinn and Cam would always be.

Phill's finger was still tracing the still form and when he looked up into her eyes and could see the pain of her loss even though she was keeping a stoic front. Looking at the two heads shifting over her skin made him feel ashamed of himself for acting like such a prat at breakfast. Perhaps he would be a little softer on Fenwick when he confronted him. Perhaps.

"That's fascinating, Phill." He glanced at Quinn and then back to Phill's chest. "So you might know if he was in trouble by his elevated heartbeat? Does it have location abilities as well so you would know where to get to him?" Not that they really needed it as their necklaces [or is it their wrist bands??] could take them to each other in such a case, but it was interesting to know about this type of magic and all of its abilities.

We haven't been able to figure out how to get the location abilities to work quite as detailed as we'd like. It's good at about 3 kilometers. We've been able to make it work for us but I'm looking for a more specific spell that will get a narrower range."

Phill pulled her undershirt back on. On second thought, she did feel uncomfortable being half-clothed but not because of Cara. Quinn was staring intently between the two of them with a hooded look in her eyes, like she was just waiting for Cara to suddenly do something inappropriate. That girl was all kinds of jealous without even realizing it.

She cleared her throat and started again, pulling up her sleeve to keep at least some of the tattoos in sight. "As far as the heartbeat, it's more than that. I can actually tell in what position Benjy is in. Like, is he sitting down? Running? Laying down? Falling? Climbing? I can't explain it but I can tell what he's doing. It might be because we work so closely together or because I might have a good idea already. Whatever it is, with this spell, I can tell what he's doing. It might work differently with other people. We don't really talk about it. It's just... there."

Caradoc frowned. If they could tell the person's position and elevated heart rate, then the spell was far more intrusive than he was comfortable with. It was one thing for the jokes to be bandied about regarding his personal life, it was another thing entirely to have Quinn and Cam aware each time he laid down with a woman. His personal life was personal for a reason.

"I think we should go get Fenwick and-" He held up his hand as Phill's mouth opened. "Not to interrupt his day, Phill. But I'd like to see how it works before we start mixing up our blood. And I'd like to have information to give Cam when he gets back." He glanced at Quinn who had stayed remarkably silent during this conversation. Odd, he thought, since this was mostly for her.

"Quinn?" he said, drawing her attention to him. "What do you think?"

Quinn rubbed at the ache in her chest. There was a part of her that wanted to demand they start right away but the larger part, the part that kept her functioning most days, wasn't sure she could handle that much information about either Cara or Cam. Most of the time, she walked a fine line as it was. A line that was only a step away from obsession. They were her only family. If she lost them, she wouldn't have anything but she knew that if she crossed too far over that line, she was liable to lose them just because she was holding on too hard.

The question she needed to consider was not _What do you think_ but _Can you handle this if we start down this road_ and she wasn't sure of the answer.

"We should talk to Benjy." She nodded her head slowly. Cara was right. They needed more information.

Cara's eyes narrowed on Quinn and the way she kept rubbing at her chest. It was something she had picked up somewhere in the last six years (he thought she got it from Cam who did the same thing whenever Moane was brought up, but the other man didn't agree) and only did when things became too much for her mind to process. As he watched the slow circle she was making, he felt ashamed that he hadn't noticed before now. Of course she was overwhelmed right now. Nothing had gone according to plan in the last two weeks with the results ending up with he and Cam nearly dying twice and two of their comrades falling. Add in the fact that the unflappable Camillo Figge had finally found somebody that shook him to his core and the new people they seemed to be collecting like Quidditch trophies and it all added up to Quinn having more than her usual amount of what Cara thought of as panic attacks. Things were changing in all of their lives and nobody, especially Quinn, had had a chance to catch their breath.

He sighed and then turned his gaze back to Phill. "I'll let you go fetch him, Phill. So that he does not think I'm trying to ruin his good time. But I would like to get this out of the way now so that I can-" His gaze flickered back to Quinn for a moment. "I have some other things that need to be addressed today."

Phill nodded before pulling on her long-sleeved outer shirt. She was decidedly more uncomfortable than she thought she would be right now. It was amazing how calm and collected Quinn was when she was around other people. Phill had a feeling she was seeing a little bit more into the girl's head than was intended for her to see. "Sounds like a plan. I'll go get him. Give you time to discuss this without me being in the room."

"You don't have to do this if you don't want," Quinn whispered when the other girl was gone. It had suddenly occurred to her that she had as much to hide from Cara as he had to hide from her. Neither of them were exactly open books when it came to portions of their lives. "If it's too obtrusive, we can find something else."  
"Come here," he said, swinging his leg over the chair so that he was facing the bed where Quinn was perched. When she just looked at him, Cara smiled softly. "All right then." He grabbed one of her ankles and tugged until her small body slid over to him. Standing, he slipped an arm underneath her and lifted her easily. With his free hand, he repositioned the chair so that it was facing the bed correctly and then he deposited Quinn in it. He dropped down on the bed, hooked the chair with both feet and slid it as close to the bed as it would go, and then took both of her hands in his. "Talk to me, Q."

Again, she just looked at him so he changed tracks. Right now was not the time to push her on what was panicking her. There would be time enough for that later. And if need be, he'd bring Loah in to give her something that would make her sleep. Rest always helped. "Tell me why you wanted to do this to begin with. Tell me why you thought the necklaces weren't enough."

Quinn looked down at her hands resting securely in his and felt the hold on her emotions cracking. It would be so easy to just curl up in his lap and tell him everything that was bothering her. To let him help her because really he was the only one who could.

 _Answer his questions and JUST his questions. Don't think this means anything or that it's going to happen again. He is your friend but he is not YOUR Cara. You have no hold on him. So just breath and talk to him._

"There are inherent flaws in the necklaces. They have to be activated. What if you're not able to activate it? What if someone takes it off without your permission? I've never been able to find a way to keep it in place. Everything simply deactivates all the other protocols."

For a moment, Caradoc thought she was going to close off completely. When she finally spoke, he released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Right. That makes sense. And what do you see as the flaws with this spell?" It was better to keep her focused on something for the time being. Once they had this settled, he could take her down to the beach and work her until her mind was too tired to rebel and then bring her back here and force her to get some rest. That would help her to feel better. And then they could talk this out and formulate a plan for all the changes.

"It's too intrusive. She hasn't said anything but I don't know if it's easy to reverse the spell. It obviously pains her that she has, essentially, a dead space on her body. Who knows, if the person doesn't die, if it can come off." Quinn shrugged, trying to think through any of the other paths possible. "I'd need more information to know if it can somehow be manipulated. Or does it make the bearer susceptible to certain spells? Are there side effects?"

All the ideas began to course through her brain, the possibilities making her breath come fast so that she felt lightheaded. She brought their hands up until they were covering her face, both his and hers as if she needed help keeping all these thoughts from escaping before they were ready.

"The problem is," she continued after taking a few deep breaths and lowering their hands back in place on her lap, "that I need to see the spell before I'll understand how it works. She can't just tell me about it or try to explain it. I have to see the magic. Maybe we can convince Gideon and Fabian to do it. It's not like they aren't joined at the hip already."

She laughed, surprised at how easy it was. There were times that she didn't remember what happy was like. Then, other times like this, she realized that happy was just another layer lying under the hurt and as soon as she lifted off some of the bad, she was able to experience some of the good right along with it.

It was hard to sit quietly and let Quinn work out whatever it was that was troubling her, but that was how she worked and interrupting her would just put them a step back. When she finally looked at him and laughed, his lips parted in a smile, but only a small amount of relief was brought with it.

"All right. When she comes back, we can ask her these things and talk to her about performing the spell. I'm guessing that it does not make them susceptible to anything dangerous or Phill wouldn't be offering it up to us. She's not going to knowingly put us in danger." He squeezed her hands, his thumbs tracing identical paths on her fingers. "Seeing it in action might be a good idea, but are you are planning on waiting several months to see how it affects Gid and Fabian or do you just want to see the spell performed?"

And that was the rub. He was right, as always. They would have to wait to see how it affected the men and she would need to run tests, most of which there wouldn't be time to do well or that they would growl at her about. Then there would be the inevitable rumors and the rest of the Group would want to know why they weren't included.

"That wouldn't work," she concluded, leaning forward until her forehead rested against his chest. "We couldn't ask that of them. I could have her do it to just me. That way I could look at just the side effects. That would work. It might work. I could make it work."

Cara released one of her hands and stroked her hair. "You can make anything work, Quinn. You always do." He shifted so that he could lift her head back up so they were eye to eye. "But you're not doing it alone. You'll test it on me. We'll see how it really works and then, if it works to your standards, we'll pick a design for the three of us and do it. If not, we'll figure out how to get rid of it and that will be that. We'll keep looking until we find a solution that meets your standards."

"That should be our first question. Removal. If it can`t be removed, we won`t do it." But part of her felt lighter at the idea that she would be connected to him with a little bit stronger magic than the necklaces or even the bracelets. It was selfish of her to want this but she could convince herslef she was doing it to keep him safe.  
She could also almost convince herself that leaning forward and kissing him was an intelligent step. In fact, she was almost to the point of no turning back, had just begun to move when there was the sound of a throat clearing.

"Don't mean to interrupt but I found him."

Without turning around or breaking eye contact with Cara, Quinn answered, "Good because we have questions."


	13. Learning to Fly

“You almost ready, Beck?”

Rebecca was perched at the breakfast island, picking through the last of her favorite pre-practice meal - chicken and eggs. She glanced over her shoulder as Labon entered the kitchen and watched him as he moved to pour himself a cup of coffee. He always took a mug of the stuff to her practices, even in the summer months. Rebecca didn’t know how he stomached that sludge but then, she had always preferred tea.

“Don't worry. We’ll have time, Bonny,” she said with a smirk. She only used the name when she was trying to throw him off his game. Usually, she wanted Labon focused and alert with no distraction; however, when they were heading for a round of flying, she wanted him off just a bit. Not that she truly needed the edge, though Labon was a much better flyer than anybody would think, given his physique, but it was always amusing to tease the normally stoic man.

When he turned and glared at her over his shoulder, she lifted her fork in salute before bringing the last bite of chicken to her mouth.

Labon turned and leaned against the counter as he secured the mug in his hand with a charm to make it easier to travel with. “I told you I wanted to get there a bit early today. I don’t want that coach of yours getting all out of sorts because we’re still up when he arrives.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “All right,” she said as she shoveled the rest of the eggs. She slid off the stool and dumped her plate into the sink. “Walter already there?” He nodded and Rebecca gathered up her bag and then waited for Labon to get his broom; however he simply disappeared. Rebecca frowned and looked around, wondering how they were supposed to play if he didn’t have his broom. She certainly wasn’t going to take it easy simply because he was on an unfamiliar broom. With a shrug, she pulled her bag closer and then Apparated to the stadium.

“I hope you’re not looking for me to take it easy on you, Bonny,” she told him as they walked through the tunnel that lead to the pitch. He simply smiled at her. He was trying to throw her off, she decided.

When they reached the bench, Rebecca dropped her bag and began digging through it looking for the tie she used on her hair. As her hand closed on it, she felt eyes on her. Not unusual given she was always in the presence of at least two guards, but this felt different. A sudden flare of panic ran through her and she turned to look at Labon who was simply climbing the stairs to the spot he always sat in during practices. Just as quickly, she turned to look for Walter. Instead of finding her second guard, Rebecca found herself looking up at Camillo Figge. He was sitting a few rows up, leaning forward with his arms folded on his knees and watching her. Instantly, she felt the panic drain only to be replaced with a different type of apprehension. The type a woman got when she was wearing an old tee and had no makeup on and dirty hair and she found herself in front of the hottest bloke on the planet. Still, any chance to see Camillo had to be seized; especially when he had made the trip all the way out to Holyhead. She began moving in his direction, gathering up her hair and securing it with the tie as she walked. He stood and moved down the stairs to meet her.

“Labon must really like you, Camillo,” she said as she reached the fence surrounding the pitch. She folded her arms on the top of the wooden structure and smiled. “To what do I owe this lovely surprise?”

"Labon owes me his life several times over. I figure I still have three very big favours coming to me if I ask politely." He put his hands on either side of her arms, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "It was the only way I could figure out how to see you again. Do you mind if I hang out here today?"

Interesting information, she thought, but couldn’t take her eyes from Camillo’s to spare Labon a glance. That this man would use these supposed favours to see her made her smile grow into a ridiculous grin. She shook her head and bit her lower lip in an effort to reign in her silly beaming.

“I don’t but Coach might.” She laughed at the look that crossed his face. “Just sit with Lebon and all will be well other than the fact that it will likely be terribly boring for you once practice starts.” Rebecca straightened and placed a hand on each of his wrists, her thumb sliding over the rough leather of the band he wore. “Though, since Labon lured me here early under the pretense of having some flying competitions, we do have some time to ourselves before the rest of the team arrives,” she said, dropping his left wrist and turning so that she could lead him to the opening in the fence. When she had tugged him onto the pitch, she slipped her hand from his wrist into his hand. “What are your flying skills like, Mister Figge?”

He squeezed her hand, still in shock that this was actually happening. When Labon had told him to bring his broom but wouldn't explain why, he'd been concerned that he'd be asked to something strange. Flying he could do and the pick up games that Gid and Fab insisted on playing had taught him valuable skills when it came to the game of Quidditch. He doubted he would embarrass himself too much. "I'm by no means seeker material but I can hold my own on and off the pitch."

Without letting go of her hand, he Accioed his broom from where it had been leaning against the bottom row of bleachers. With it securely in hand and a better idea of what was to be expected of him, he wasn't quite so nervous. In fact, he was confidant enough to lean down and steal a kiss.

"I've missed you," he said when he stood back up. "There hasn't even been any pictures of you lately for me to moon over."

Rebecca laughed. "If that's all you need, you should write to the team's communication office. They would have been happy to send you an autographed picture." She summoned her own broom and for a moment, Rebecca had second thoughts about flying with this man when they could spend the next sixty minutes or so picking up where their last conversation had been left. The thought of that evening, however, had her smile faltering as she remembered why it had been cut short.

She swallowed and looked down at her broom as it came to rest beside her. “Camillo,” she said in a quieter voice and then changed her mind. Perhaps he did not want to talk about the loss of his friends and whatever it was that he and his group were required to do after such a tragedy. Maybe this was a day he could escape it all and bringing it up would just put a damper on their time together. Still, she did care about his well-being and what he was feeling and thinking. After a deep breath, she looked back up at him and asked, “Are you well? I mean… are things… are you all right?”

"Thank you for asking," he said quietly, his heart near to bursting that she even cared about his mental state or that he had just lost someone close to him. "I am fine, as are my friends. The mourning will continue for a long time but I don`t feel it dragging on me. It's not something that mars my enjoyment of this moment. If they were still here, they wouldn't want me to waste this time in being sad. Much the same as I would feel if it had been me in their place."

He wanted to take back those words as he saw fear cross her eyes so he hurried to add, "Really, it is no more dangerous what I do compared to what you do. The fates already know how long our cords are and it doesn't matter where we are when we come to the end of the line."

A small chuckle escaped before she could stop it. She wondered if all people in this sort of profession said things like that. Benjy was always telling her that the Moirae had already determined his life span and that since Lachesis had already measured his thread, there was nothing he could do to change that length. When it was his time, he would go willingly knowing that he fought to make this world better for those who would come after him. Though she loathed his choice in profession, his conviction was something she had always revered. Fitting that she should find her path crossed with a man who not only shared in that belief, but whose chances of death were infinitely higher than Benjy's given the fact that everybody knew who he was and what he stood for.

"Well then, we should not spend any more of our time together today dwelling on such sad things." She reached up and cupped his cheek with one hand. With a soft stroke, she ran her thumb over his lips before raising up on her toes to brush a soft kiss across his mouth. "I am sorry for your loss. And that is the last I will say on the subject unless you choose to speak of it again." With that, she smiled and swung her leg over her broom. It shook but she kept her feet planted on the grass. "Why don't you show me this lack of seeker material."

Cam shot her a wry smile as he got on his broom. All he could hope at this moment was that he didn't fall off and embarrass himself. That would definitely put a damper on the day. "Go easy on me, Fenwick."

His take off was wobbly but he found his rhythm as he shot up as far and fast as he could go before leveling off and making a circle. While he'd never been comfortable on a broom, all that time being forced to help even out the sides of the games at the Beach House had actually done worlds of good for his flying. Still, Cara was going to get a laugh when he found out how Cam spent his day off.

As he hovered in place, watching her kick off much smoother than he would ever be able to, Cam was able to get a better perspective of just how good Rebecca really was. Everything about her ascent looked flawless, as if she didn't have to deal with the same gravity that everyone else did. She followed the same route that he had taken before coming to a stop beside him.

"Okay, let's see who has faster speed since you obviously won the more graceful take-off." Even though he knew she would have more endurance, he knew he was weak in sprints but could hold his own if they were flying for any length of time, once he got moving. "What do you think? Four times around? Winner gets a kiss?"

He hadn't fallen off, which was something Rebecca had thought might happen for the barest of moments when he first took off. Though she couldn't hear him, she could see Labon laughing from his place in the stands and she couldn't help but chuckle along with her long-time guard. She smiled as she followed Camillo's route.

His proposition was a win-win situation if there ever was one. No matter if she won or lost (though she had no doubt she would win), she got something she wanted. Rebecca grinned and then repositioned her broom so that she was on the outside of him. She held out her hand and when he took it, she shook it firmly and winked. "You've got yourself a race, sir."

She let him count them down and then took off, though not nearly as fast as she would have if she were racing Labon or Susanne. When she did not feel his presence, she subtly slowed her forward progress and then laughed when he came up beside her. His face turned slightly and he offered a grin that Rebecca found extremely adorable before his gaze was straight ahead as he focused his broom on the direction he wanted it to go. For the span of that lap and the next, Rebecca let herself trail slightly behind him so that she could watch his flying from a better vantage point. Winning was fun, but watching the play of his muscles through his Henley as he maneuvered the broom around the pitch was more rewarding.

When they rounded the south end goals heading into their third lap, Rebecca leaned forward until her speed increased. It was then that she realized he was picking up speed as they went and that she wanted to lose. For the first time, she wanted to be the one dispensing the affection. When the head of her broom was even with the tail of his, she reigned her speed in and kept pace with him on the straights and let herself fall behind when they rounded the goals at either end of the pitch. By the time they were rounding the south goals again, she was more than half a length behind him and she bent low as she sped past him, just after the previously decided on 'finish line'. She pulled her broom up and lopped back around, coming to a stop next to him so that they were face to face.

"You keep telling me you're not very good at things and then proving otherwise," she said, her eyes full of laughter. "If I didn't think that I'm winning either way, I'd say you must be hustling me, Camillo Figge."

"Who's hustling who, Rebecca Fenwick? You let me win." Not that he should be complaining because he had to agree with her. It was a win-win situation if ever there was one. Cam bent forward slightly so they were almost touching. "You should have lapped me somewhere near the beginning of the second lap and you know it. Did you forget that it was a race? Were you mesmerized by my haphazard flying technique?"

That he would call her out made her laugh and she grabbed his broom, something she would not normally do, and tugged backwards so that their lips met. "Something like that," she replied, moving her hand from his broom to his arm as she moved her head just enough to put a thin amount of space between them. "You are amazing to watch," she added in a low whisper. "I imagine that you're beautiful to watch in all manners of movement." She reached up and cupped his face again, this time with both hands. Her eyes moved from his lips to his eyes. "You have great command over your body, Camillo. A perk in your chosen profession I'm sure." Her smile softened a moment before she closed the distance between them and captured his lips with her own.

This wasn't his best kiss, seeing as he was holding on to his broom for dear life. Cam had nearly forgotten where he was and reached for her when their lips touched. Since he and his broom weren't on quite the same level as Rebecca was with hers, letting go would give his broom ideas about taking him where it wanted to go.

It was probably a good idea that he had something else to concentrate on, though. In all of their meetings so far, just when he started getting ideas about an alternative ending to the evening, something came along and sufficiently stomped those ideas into mush. The last thing he needed today was an accident sending him back to the Beach House just when he was getting comfortable with the idea of being able to touch Rebecca. Right at this moment, if he wasn't fifty feet above the ground, he could run his fingers through her sable hair or trace the smudge of freckles across her cheekbone or, christ on a tree, slide his hand down to her waist and back up again under her shirt.

She pulled away, resting her forehead against his. For a moment, Cam knew true peace. Up here there was no sound from the stands or the hubbub from outside the walls. It was only the two of them, together. The perfection of it was enough to make Cam want to stay like this but then his broom wobbled again and he broke out of her embrace to remind it that swaying back and forth was not proper broom behaviour.

"Best prize I've ever won." His eyes found hers once again. "Perhaps we might find a place for our next meeting that is more conducive to these other types of movement. So far we've-" He was distracted by something out of the corner of his eye, glancing over to see what it might be. There was movement in the stands straight in front of him and a flash. Of course not the way she was facing so that it would be the back of his head. He just couldn't catch a break.

Since it was too late to do anything about it now, he gave his attention back to her and grinned. "We've got an audience again."

The flash was hard to miss and it made Rebecca's heart sink. She nodded, disappointed that once again they were interrupted before she was ready for there to be an end to their visit. It was becoming a terrible pattern and one she intended to break soon or she might go insane from the lack of follow through. She couldn't tell you why she was so drawn to this man but she was and this meeting, that kiss, only increased the feeling she had. Even though this kiss had not been as shockingly electric as the first one, or as sensual and lingering as any of the ones he had given so freely at the pub after the match, it still sent a wave of pleasure through her. On more than a physical level. Which should probably scare her but it didn't.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault," she sighed. "I forgot that it was a press day." She had forgotten nearly everything the moment she had seen him sitting in the stands. "Coach doesn't like them to be anywhere near the stadium the weeks leading up to a match as he thinks they're a distraction. But if you don't let them have something, they hound you and become a nuisance."

She glanced around, keeping her back to the press even though she knew it was a pointless effort. "If you don't want to stay for the practice after all, I'll understand. Though, I will not be letting you out of here today without the promise of another meeting. A scheduled outing." So she was prepared and not anxiously wondering when she would see him again. But he didn't really need to hear those words come from her mouth. She smiled and sat up straighter on her broom. "And I have the perfect place and activity. No flying involved," Rebecca added with a wink.

Cam nudged his broom closer but didn't do anything to look as if he was hiding from the stares he could now feel like dagger points. "I'll take the schedule outing but I don't have anywhere else I'd rather be today. I'm sure the press will get bored of me soon enough. When it all comes down to it, I'm pretty boring."

His words both relieved her and drew a laugh from her. "I seriously doubt that, Camillo. I find you incredibly fascinating," she said as she stroked her hand down his arm only to be rewarded with another flash. Her hand immediately fell away from him and she closed her eyes, drawing the cloak of calm around her. She couldn't fault the photographers or even be that annoyed since this was the life she had chosen and the price she paid for being as good as she was at it.

"I'm sorry," she said again, shaking her head.

"Don't be. I'm not. But how about we remind them why they're here? Two laps around and I'll meet you on the ground. Same rules, same prize but you don't hold back and you don't try to make me look good." He backed up, turning around awkwardly so that he was in place beside her once again. "Don't worry. I'll be around to pay off my debt when we don't have an audience."

Rebecca watched him as he turned around and when he settled, she couldn't help but smile. It tickled her that he didn't care if he lost to her when there were people around who could, and _would_ , document that and display it for all the world to see. It was a huge turn on that he was secure enough with who he was and what his true talents were to not care about something as petty as this game she played for a living. There were a lot of blokes on the other teams that could take a note from Camillo Figge's book.

"You do realize what me not holding back will look like, don't you?"

"And I get the best seat in the house. Ready?" Cam took a deep breath before yelling, "Go!"

He never had a chance but then he'd known that. For half a lap, he stayed within a reasonable distance of her. By the third turn, he could feel himself slowing down and he'd just started the second lap when he found himself more intent on her progress than his own. Every muscle in her body was streamlined for this movement, nothing wasted as she leaned into the turns and sped through the straights.

"That's my girl," he whispered as she began her descent down to the grass below. Delight rippled through him so that he slowed down even more. "Christ on a tree, that's _my_ girl."

By the time that her feet found the grass, Rebecca was laughing. Sweet Helga she loved flying. It had such a calming effect on her even when she was racing through the air. She had always said there was nothing quite like the feeling of speeding through the sky with the air rushing over your skin, but that had been before Camillo's touch had set her body on fire. The two sensations were the best things she had yet to experience and she couldn't wait until she claimed her prize for this race.

She slipped easily from her broom and turned to find Camillo coming down towards her. "I don't know that you put forth a full effort on that one," she told him with a grin once he had extracted himself from his broom. "But it was fun." She tugged once on his shirt and then turned and began walking towards the bench. She set her broom to hover next to her as she dug in her bag once again. "Here," she said, handing him a box of nuts and a small jug of water. Though she would rather have dragged him off to the locker room and done this in private, she did not really want to give the press any ideas. This was not the time to have _those_ rumours bandying about.

With little effort, she dropped her bag to the ground and then plopped down in its place and patted the spot on the bench next to her. "We can share this mini-meal before Susanne gets here. She's usually the next to arrive when we come separately, and then the rest of the team will flood in and you'll get a prime seat to the madness that makes us the best team in Britain."

He settled in next to her on the bench, probably closer than he should have with all the spectators but his earlier thoughts was making him crave even the tiniest of touches. It would have been nice to be able to give her the prize she'd won but they didn't have a lot of time and he didn't want to have yet another kiss interrupted. Since he didn't know just how detailed these pictures would be, he kept his focus forward and not on the girl he found gorgeous even with her hair pulled up and without a trace of makeup.

"So," he said as he popped a few nuts into his mouth, "can they hear us or are they just snapping pictures left and right? Could I tell you just how beautiful you looked up there on your broom without it becoming a headline?"

Again with the stupid smile. Why was she always doing that around him. But she couldn't make her face obey, not that she really wanted to stop smiling around him. Rebecca opened her water and tipped it back before she answered him.

"We're well past not being a headline so feel free to tell me again." When he did, she laughed. "Your secret is safe with me, Camillo. Unless they have super hearing and then I cannot be held responsible for my previous statement." She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees and took another drink. "This is probably like Christmas for them," she muttered and then turned her head to look at him. "This can't be good for your business, can it? I mean, it's one thing to turn up in the newspapers once in a while, but if you continue hanging about me, you'll be in the damn things on a daily basis. And they'll start digging to find out more about you. In fact, they'll probably do that after today." That served to make the smile disappear. "I mean, I know you're not looking for much anonymity, but... will this type of thing put more of a spotlight on you? Make things harder?"

He reached out to run his hand down her arm and back up over her shoulder until his hand was resting on the base of her skull. It bothered him that every time she thought about his life, she quit smiling. While it wasn't what anyone grew up hoping to be, it was something he came by naturally and there wasn't much else he could say that about. There was always a roof over his head and food to eat. Everyone he considered family was with him and he had more people he could call friend than he'd ever had before. What little money he made was put away for the day when he decided that he'd had enough of danger. That day was still a long way off. A few pictures weren't going to change that.

"I've never been the sort of person that blended into a crowd, Rebecca. I wasn't hired to sneak around. I'm the person they send when they need someone dealt with. If you see me coming, odds are good you're either scared or relieved. Scared because you know I'm going to kill you or relieved because I'm going to rescue you. There's never any doubt to it. No one ever has to wonder what my intentions are or who I work for. These pictures... they're a flash in the pan. So I get noticed as the bloke lucky enough to have your attention. Will it be irritating? Yes. I'll deal with it, though. They'll soon tire of me and go after someone else. Will it end my career? No. And if I have to adjust how I do my job, I'll do that. I'm not worried and I don't want you to feel as if you need to worry."

Rebecca wasn't sure how much of that sentiment was actually true and how much was just smoke blown to make her feel better but it was hard logic to argue with. As with her baby brother, however, she could only trust that this man knew what he was doing and wasn't going to jeopardize himself and his team members. Besides, the selfish part of her, the part on fire from both his touch and the way his eyes were looking at her didn't care about the flashes she could see in the distance. That part only wanted this man to keep talking to her, to keep looking at her like that, and to keep setting her body ablaze with his touch.

"As long as you know what you're getting into, who am I to try and dissuade you?" she said quietly. "I just don't want to be one more problem you have to solve."

"I wouldn't call you a problem. Maybe a puzzle. The kind where you just have to get everything lined up and it all falls into place." He leaned toward her, intent on seeing if he could put a smile back on her lips. A hand on his shoulder stopped him before anything could happen. Next date, he promised himself as he looked up into the irritated expression of Susanne, he would demand they did something where no one could find them. "Susanne."

"Twig. Trying to see if you can mess up my flying mate's mindset before practice? Or were you aching to get your picture in the papers again? Looks to be a record number of pressmen here today." She winked at Rebecca, a smile tugging on her lips even though her voice was still deadpan. "Imagine that."

Through her irritation, Rebecca shook her head. The only thing that would be messing up her mindset was this damned unexplored tension she had after all the interruptions she and Camillo experienced when they were together. If Susanne had been on the other side of the bench, she would have told her to be useful and pulled her best friend into a position that would have blocked the photographers' view of Camillo. Then she would have dragged him closer by his shirt and planted a kiss on him that would have sent him into the same sort of tail spin she was currently not enjoying. Then she would have smiled, grabbed up her gear and departed to the locker area with Susanne in tow. As it was, Susanne was _not_ in a helpful position and such a display was not possible at the moment. At least without it being plastered all over the morning edition. Something she didn't really care to subject her parents or anybody else to again. At least not so soon after the first unacceptable display of public affection.

Instead, Rebecca stood and gathered up her belongings. "Don't let her fool you, Camillo. If she really didn't like you she'd call you something like _Precious_ , isn't that right my sweet Susie Que?" Rebecca kissed one finger and quickly pressed it to his lips, removing it before anybody had time to pull the triggers on their cameras. "I'll see you after practice and we'll make more suitable arrangements. One that does not involve photographers and roommates and pub brawls." She smiled and slipped an arm around Susanne's waist.

"Three of my very favorite things," Susanne drawled as she turned Rebecca. "Do be a good boy while we go do our thing. No beating up any photographers when we aren't around to cheer you on."

Cam just grimaced at her, taking the opportunity to get the dazed look off his face where he was sure it had taken up residence after she'd put her finger on his lips. He'd wanted to grab her hand and hold it in place. It was hard to watch her walk away yet again after what felt like just a few moments. With a frustrated sigh, he stood up and walked back to the gate where Labon stood waiting for him, holding the gate closed.

"They're waiting for you to cross this border," he said, indicating the pressmen standing in a crush at the top of the stairs that he would have to walk through if he wanted to watch the practice from any height. "Just so you know, you have two choices here. You can sit here and have the press annoy you with questions the entire time. Or you can walk out of here."

"What? I'll deal with the press. I'm not leaving." For a moment, Cam wondered if Labon was having him on. There was no way he was going to walk away with the promise of seeing Rebecca after her practice. Besides, he didn't feel that staring at his new favorite Quidditch player fly about with hours at a time was such a hardship. So he moved to open the gate even though he wasn't looking forward to the bother that he would be walking into. "Out of my way, Labon."

"You could _walk out_." Labon indicated the main tunnel. "I think you know the way I mean."  
And suddenly Cam knew exactly what Labon was getting at. There was a set of stairs off that main tunnel that would take him at least halfway up the stadium. If he stood in the shadows once he got up there, he might very well be able to hold off notice for most of the practice.

"Will she-"

"Weren't my idea, mate. Susanne will let her know."

Now would come his chance to see if he could act, something he'd never really done before. He clapped Labon on his shoulder as he came through the gate. The questions started coming but he held up his hand, waving them off, before trudging toward the exit. Everyone stuttered to a deep silence and he decided to really act it up, pushing his fists into the pocket of his trousers and hunching his shoulders. If anything, he hoped they saw a man who'd already had all the fun he was going to have today.


	14. The Art of Discovery

Phill had never been to the sea before. Until this minute, she hadn't really equated being at _The Beach House_ with being by the beach. The sheltered beach was still vast compared to the pictures she'd ever seen of it and the water seemed to stretch out toward eternity. She understood why alchemists spent centuries thinking the Earth was flat because she felt as if she could have set sail on the blue water and never found the end of it.

A burst of laughter from the three figures down on the beach brought her back to reality and the reminder that she should have been working instead of daydreaming. It wasn't like he was that all fired eager to be asking her the questions about what she was experiencing right now. When she wasn't actively thinking about it, she almost forgot that she was tied to Benjy, and vice versa.

Marlene was clapping, the sound lost in the roar of the sea and their distance away. She was smiling, shouting encouragement to the two circling opponents. Quinn had rolled up the cuffs of her pants and kicked off her shoes. From here, she looked like a five year old playing with an older brother, her hair pulled up into a series of small knots so that her neck was incredibly long and her face thin and white. The other girl, clad in hospital scrubs that still looked big irregardless of the sizing spells that Loah kept trying out, could almost have been her twin except that her skin was not quite as fair and her hair was more auburn than the flame of Quinn's. With her blonde hair and tanned skin, Phill felt like the odd girl out in the trio. All three of them were shorter than the men. This fact seemed to be throwing Benjy for a loop as he struggled to spar effectively with someone who had little body mass and never seemed to be where she was supposed to be.

"Did you teach Quinn to fight like this? I've never fight so dirty in all my life. Poor Benjy doesn't know what to do with himself." She struggled to concentrate on the feeling she was getting from the connection since that was the reason they were here. "She's getting in a fair amount of hits. I'm impressed."

Though this had started out as an exercise to gain an understanding of the workings of the spell, Cara found himself more interested on watching Quinn's fighting skills than worrying about what questions he should be asking. It was so rare that he actually got to watch her fight. They were either sparring, which he rarely did with her anymore, or he was too immersed in his own fight to spare Quinn more than the cursory glance to ensure she was still standing. She would certainly admonish him for his lack of focus today. Though, from the looks of things he was quite sure she was enjoying herself far too much to care if they had to go another round. However, Phill's words drew him back to the reality of the situation. There were questions he needed answered as well and this was the perfect time to get to them.

His smile was slow in coming but when he turned and looked at Phill, there was a certain fondness in his expression. Quinn's fighting skills were a mix from several different people, taught at a time when it was simply necessary to survive bullies. The stealth of her movements was something she had come by honestly and had perfected over the last seven years.

"I taught her to survive," was his only response to Phill's inquiry. He met her eyes and frowned. "Can you feel the impact of the hits? Can you feel what he's feeling right now? His emotions? Or ..." He wasn't sure exactly how to phrase his concerns. "If you were not looking down there, would you know he was engaged in that activity or would you simply know that he was in an excited state?"

"It's hard for me to explain because I don't always pay attention. Right now, her hits are like... ghost hits. I don't feel any pain and I never have from any of his injuries but I can tell you where they are right after they happen. That fades over time. Right now, without looking at them," she turned her attention fully on Cara, "she just hit his lower leg and his right side. I can tell that he's fighting back. His heart rate is faster than mine. When he's at rest or if he's sleeping and I'm still awake, I don't even notice it. At first, I vaguely remember being hyper aware of what he was doing. Now, I only notice when he's in distress. If his heart rate gets too erratic, it can be uncomfortable because it can affect the way mine beats. Benjy has his mark directly over his heart and he says he doesn't notice my heartbeat as much as I do because mine is offset. Damn it all that I'm a girl."

Phill grinned at him, pulling her attention away and back to the people on the beach. Benjy had just kicked Quinn's feet out from underneath her, following her down to the sand so that she wasn't able to jump up right away. The two were grappling for control but as soon as Benjy let up, he was on his back and Quinn was standing upright again. "It feels a shame to say it but I barely notice it anymore. Not unless I'm concentrating on him. Which, really, is surprisingly easy to _not_ do unless I need to."

He honestly did not think that sharing the sensations of a one night stand, even as a ghost shag, was something he needed to put Quinn through. Or Cam for cripes sake. Or anybody for that matter. And Merlin only knew they didn't need to know when he was with Molly. That woman was a bloody animal in bed and often left marks on him that he didn't need anybody coming around checking up on the next day. So hyper aware would not be such a good idea with Quinn. Of course, it could be just the excuse he needed when he told Quinn that he didn't think this was going to be the answer to her desires. Sweet heavens she worried enough as it was.

Cara tried to smile back at Phill but he faltered and was glad that she turned her attention back to the action below. He leaned his arms on the railing and stared down at the people below without really seeing the action. "Do you worry excessively about Benjy? When you first got those things, did it put you on edge every time his heart rate elevated? Or were you able to distinguish that it was not from distress?"

"Distress has it's own beat. The fear has something to do with it, I think. Right now, she's working him but I'm really having to concentrate on it. Just like, if I know he's out for the evening," she emphasized those last few words, assuming that he was talking about recreational activities of the private kind, "I can push all those feelings to the background. It's a different sensation. There's no fear to ramp it up."

Phill was so confused right now. Everything she thought she knew was turning out to be slightly skewed. "Do you not think that she can push all this to the background? The way I think about it, I only worry about Benjy when I have reason to worry about him. When he's out and about, doing his own thing, I don't worry about him. Just like I wouldn't if we didn't have these things. He can handle himself. It's only when I have cause to worry that I notice it."

Now Caradoc did turn to look at Phill. "I think," he began, but then paused and frowned. "It's not that I don't think she can push it down. She can." And he could just tone down his own extracurricular activities until Quinn adjusted to the new sensations. "And she probably would if we weren't out on a mission, but she..." He sighed. It wasn't that Quinn was overly dramatic or something, but she did worry and sometimes she worried excessively. He didn't want somebody to misunderstand that about her. For Phill and Benjy, and even himself, there were family members to love you through a loss. But for Quinn, this was the only family she had left. Cara, Cam, Loah and Adi. It was natural to worry about your loved ones.

"Well, sometimes she worries a little too much about us. If she knew we were injured on a mission... though, if she knew we were injured but still going maybe it would ease her stress a bit?" Well crap. It seemed as if his only true out was tied up nice and tight there. That would relieve her worry. "How long did it take you lot to adjust?" Everybody was different. He knew that, but it would be nice to have an estimate to work off of.

"A couple of weeks? I don't remember for sure. That was a long time ago." It was hard to believe that she and Benjy had been a team for so long. The days and weeks had blurred and become years and suddenly, Phill felt old. How many people had they helped? How many had they killed? Was it bad that she couldn't make a list right now of either of those groups of people?

Before she started going to places in her head she wasn't prepared to visit, she stood away from the railing. Time to start earning her keep. "So, Loah's in the house, right?" When he nodded, she grinned at him. "Want to help me injure myself and really give Benjy something to show you?"

Cara wasn't sure that grin was a good thing. In fact, the twinkle in her eyes should probably frighten him. "Umm- what do you have in mind?" he asked with more than a little hesitation.

"Oh, come on, Cara." Phill looked out over the railing but the fall wasn't very far down. She could kick the wall but she was loath to hurt her foot just now, even if Loah could patch her right up. Too much could go wrong with that one and she didn't want to be stuck in one place for a long period of time. "It could be fun. Besides, it would freak Benjy out. He's not expecting me to do anything to make the spell activate. You could let me hit you in the jaw. That would hurt my hand."

He stared at her for a moment and then burst out laughing. "Let me get this straight. You want to slug _me_?" When she nodded, he continued, "In an effort to get Benjy to worry about _you_?" He shook his head, his eyes still dancing in amusement. "And what if that doesn't hurt your hand? Am I then allowed to subdue you? Which may or may not hurt your arm?"

That gave her an idea. "Oh, you could pull my arm out of the socket! It's already pretty tender from a couple of weeks ago." When he still just stared at her as if she was insane, she shrugged. "It was worth a try. Still, I think getting to hit you would be pretty fun. Gavin always said you had the hardest head of anyone he knew. It's bound to hurt."

That got his attention. He had been hesitating because actively hurting somebody when they weren't sparring wasn't something he was all that comfortable with. However, she seemed more than willing to have at him. Who was he to argue? Besides, Loah was just inside. He could put them both right in the blink of an eye.

"All right, Hartsel. You're on. You hit me and I'll respond. But don't expect me to be holding back like your partner down there. I'm not trying to win any hearts here and I know you're damn capable."

Marlene hadn't enjoyed herself this much since... well, since breakfast this morning. All she'd done for the last twenty minutes was laugh. It had been a very long time since anything had tickled her quite this much. As she shouted encouragement at both Quinn and Benjy, clapping her hands as if everything they did was pure poetry, Marlene let herself completely relax. From what Quinn had told her, there was no way for anyone to get to the beach area without coming through the compound set into the impossibly tall cliffs. She already knew that the only people who were getting into the Beach House were people who belonged there. There was also the odd fact that she was only having trouble with the magic of the place in spurts, as if it was cresting a dam that struggled to keep everything back.

Now was not the time to think of such things. Now was but the time to just... be.

"Get him, Quinn. In the shin. Kick him in the shin again." When Benjy turned to glare at her, she only grinned at him and continued to clap and call out encouragements. She tried to watch them both but she often forgot herself and found herself staring at the way that Benjy moved only to be brought back to reality as he flinched and moved back away from Quinn's onslaught.

It was only because she was watching him closely that she noticed his face pale. Quinn had planted a foot above his knee, using her momentum to flip herself over and he'd been admiring the move until something had him clutching at his shoulder.

Quinn righted herself with a quick laugh but quickly quieted as she saw that Benjy wasn't paying any attention to her. "What is it? Did I hit something I shouldn't have?"

The impact from Quinn had come to his leg, to the spot she had quickly become so fond of, yet Benjy could have sworn something had popped in his shoulder as well. Except there was no pain. Not even the slightest bit. It took him almost a full second to realize what it was he was experiencing. He hadn't been paying attention to Phill's presence, to her heartbeat and movements, so he wasn't prepared to feel anything from her while grappling with Quinn. To be sure he hadn't over-extended his shoulder, he rolled it forward and then backward. Nothing.

Benjy saw the frown on Quinn's face as she moved forward. He saw Marlene stand, concern on her face as well, and he held up a hand and took a step away from the two women. With a deep breath, and practiced concentration, Benjy brought his own heart rate down and concentrated on the ghost beat. It was easier for Phill to determine his beat, but since his mark was directly over his own heart, he had to calm his own in order to concentrate on hers. When his came down from the exertion sparring with the wily Quinn had caused, Benjy was able to determine his best friend's beat more clearly. It was more erratic than normal. The sort of rhythm she got when she was in pain.

He turned and looked up to the spot where Dearborn and Phill had been watching the demonstration from. All he saw was the back of Dearborn's form, who appeared to be looked down at the planks of the deck. From this vantage point, Benjy could not see his partner on the ground, but he knew without a doubt that's where she was. Without a word, he took off in the direction of the deck. Taking the stairs three at a time, Benjy was up them in a moment. He saw Phill's prone form and instinct took over. His hands found Dearborn's body and he flipped the man away from his partner. With a great thud, he slammed Caradoc into the wall of the house and trapped him there with an arm pressed to the other man's trachea.

Dearborn's reaction was to put his arms in the air in a surrendering motion and that only served to irritate Benjy further. "What the hell did you do to her?" he growled. Dearborn grunted, unable to speak, and pointed down to Phill's white face.

Phill had forgotten just how bad the white-hot lightning of real pain was. She'd blacked out there for a few seconds but now that her vision was clearing, she realized that maybe the plan hadn't been the smartest she'd ever had.

"Benjy," she called out, the very act of talking sending ripples of pain radiating throughout her body. "Leave him be. I wanted to give him a real test of the spell. You weren't letting Quinn get near enough to you to do any damage."

At the sound of her voice, Benjy turned to look at Phill. Good heavens, she was pale. He released Caradoc and dropped down beside his partner. Her arm was hanging limply, as if it had been dislocated once again, but it was the strange angle of her forearm that drew his attention. It appeared as if her ulna had been snapped. His jaw tightened as he fought the urge to go at Caradoc Dearborn again.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he whispered. He placed one hand under her good arm and the other on her back. "Come on. Up you go. Loah needs to look at you and then we can sort this out."

"I've already summoned Loah," Caradoc said quietly. His voice was softer than usual and he was staring at Phill with a mix of anger, shock and guilt. He moved towards Phill but Benjy set his body between the two as he helped his partner up.

"Easy," Benjy murmured to Phill, steadying her as she came to her feet. "All right?"

"I'm fine. Well, I will be." The pain was already softening but that wasn't good, either. She'd almost prefer to keep feeling the pain over not feeling it. Nothing she hated worse than being numb. "It went a little further than I thought it would. Figured I'd just have him dislocate it again. Loah can patch me up nice and tight. Didn't think anything of it. Just... moved. The wrong way. Stupid thing... to do."

She was rambling now but it sure beat crying out in pain as she tried taking a step. Walking wasn't going to be the best option here but damned if she was going to let either of the men carry her.

"You said Loah was coming here, right?" she asked as she tried not to sway. "Maybe I don't want to be standing up."

"Yes. I'll go fetch him."

Benjy glared at the other man even as he disappeared through the door. "A damn stupid thing to do, Phillipa," he said as he summoned a chair and eased her down on to it. That damn prideful streak of hers. He would have much preferred to have just scooped her up and taken her to the doctor. It would have been quicker, but even in the pain, he could feel her body locking down. There was no way he would have been able to get her up without causing more pain, and possibly more damage.

With nothing to do now that she was seated, Benjy began pacing around her. He turned as Marlene crested the stairs, but quickly turned away. The last thing he wanted was for her to see the pure anger in his eyes. "When you're not in shock, you'll tell me exactly what happened."

"I can tell you now." As she took deep even breaths, Phill concentrated on something other than her body. "He locked my arm up behind me. I tried to twist out of the hold so that it would wrench my harm more and then... I don't know. It just got out of hand. I twisted too far and he tried to back off and then I... I twisted differently than I should have. It's my fault, Benjy."

"Cara wouldn't have hurt her on purpose," Quinn stated from her position behind Marlene. She'd seen enough to know that Cara was as freaked out as the rest of them, maybe more so. "She's one of his. He wouldn't hurt her."

Benjy stopped pacing and stared down at Phill. Sometimes, he didn't know what to do with her. As he was trying to gather his thoughts and formulate a response, Quinn spoke up and before he had thought better of it, Benjy had spun around and was looking at Quinn with an incredulous look.

"She's one of his what exactly?" He looked back at Phill. "One of his what? What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"A Gyffindor," Caradoc said from the doorway. He stood to the side to let Loah pass through but he made no moves to place himself closer to Phill. "Calm down, Fenwick. I understand your anger, I would have the same if you had snapped one of Quinn's limbs, but your anger is not necessary. Phill and I have a history and I would never intentionally harm her." He waved a hand, hoping for casual but he was still slightly shaken from the sound and feel of Phill's bone under his hand as it was snapping. "Besides, Loah here will put her right in no time."

"As if I have nothing better to do with my time than mending people injured in the field, now you have to get hurt on your down time?" Loah did a quick examination to ascertain the exact problem, not trusting Caradoc's hasty explanation as to why he needed to come outside instead of having his patient brought to him.

He found the eyes of her partner and directed his comments toward him, knowing full well that teammates didn't like to be separated. He'd had his fill of dealing with them over the years. "I'm going to fix the break before I even begin to work on the shoulder. I need you to hold her because this spell is quick but it's not pretty."

Quinn tried not to laugh at the understatement but the sound came out more like a whimper. She'd had her share of first-hand experience with this spell over the years. It meant she also knew how Phill would react. She ducked around Marlene and took Benjy's hand, tugging him toward where Phill was sitting.

"Hold her right here. She's going to react by wanting to get away from Loah so you'll need to position yourself here. But it's going to pull her toward Loah so you need to be ready for the backlash. Then, you'll probably need to keep her upright. It's going to hurt like a (bad word that starts with F)."

"Yeah, this was such a good idea," Phill murmured.

Caradoc watched Quinn as she took control and began shuffling people around. Over the years, it had mostly been Cam that had held her in place when Loah worked his healings, but the first time that Cam had needed to be restrained, it had fallen to Cara. Loah had healed his brother's broken arm and then Cara's broken nose. Quinn had simply giggled and muttered something neither man had ever gotten her to clarify. Cara suspected it had to do with the hard time they gave her when she had the work done. Of course, it was easier for him, and likely Cam as well, to tease than to be reminded of how easy it was for her wrist to be broken.

He had no words for Phill that he was willing to speak in front of this crowd. When Quinn had settled Benjy next to Phill, Caradoc wanted to call her to him. To seek comfort from her, but he settled for smiling at her when she glanced up at him. Without a word, Quinn admonished him and though he knew in his head that she was right, he still felt like a cad for causing Phill this sort of pain. At least when they hadn't even really been sparring.

The moment Phill and Benjy were settled, Loah did his thing. The sound was sickening as always and Phill's reaction was exactly as Quinn had said it would be. She managed not to scream, but she did rear back and Benjy's form was the only thing that kept her in place. Of course, no matter how many times somebody told you to be prepared, you couldn't really be until you'd experienced it yourself. So it was not a surprise to Cara or Quinn when Benjy's nose exploded in blood.

Caradoc couldn't help but chuckle. "I bet those tattoos are going crazy right now."

Quinn had to bite her lower lip to keep from laughing right along with Cara. This was the time to be serious because she wasn't sure how either Benjy or Phill would react to her using humour to make it through yet another session with Loah. As much as she hated being the person he was working on, she'd found that she hated being the person watching even more. It was all she could do _not_ to imagine the pain Phill must be in right now.

And while she knew it hadn't been Cara's fault, she knew it would sound better for her to admonish him than to turn on either Phill or Benjy. Once again, they wouldn't understand her need to say _something_. Never had she appreciated her team more than right at this moment.

Loah straightened up slowly after putting Benjy to rights, his nostrils flaring as they often did when he was trying to hold his tongue. Yet another person was being on his best behaviour, Quinn realized. Gid would be so proud of them.

"If it doesn't pain you too much, I'd like to complete this in my office. I'm all for triage when it's needed but I'd like to have you laid out when I do this next bit. I can get a stretcher if you'd like."

"You have a stretcher?" Quinn asked, slightly put off that she'd never once been offered a stretcher. Good manners be damned, she was just plan angry about that fact being hidden from her. When Loah only glanced at her, his eyebrow lifted much the same as his brother's would have been in this same situation, she quieted but she folded her arms over her chest to show how put out with him she was.

Phill shook her head. "Now that I've drawn Benjy's blood, I'm feeling a mite bit better. Perhaps stretching my legs would be a good thing." She waved off all help even as she swayed a bit coming to her feet once again. Her smile to Benjy was pathetic but everyone could tell she was trying to keep a stiff upper lip about the whole thing. "This can be my punishment for being stupid so you won't feel you need to talk me to death."

Caradoc finally found his voice and reached out a hand but did not touch Phill as she closed on his position by the door. He met her eyes, studiously ignoring the way Benjy's eyes narrowed and his body stiffened. "It was a good idea. And it served its purpose. Therefore, it cannot be as stupid as it appears on the surface."

Despite the way a growl was forming in Benjy's throat, Caradoc reached out and tapped Phill's chin and then leaned in so that his mouth was next to her ear. "I know I said it, but I'm truly sorry, Phill. And you are more than welcome to take it out of my hide when you're feeling up to it. I won't even tell Loah."

When he pulled back, he met Benjy's eyes and inclined his head in as much of as an apology as the man was going to get. Then he looked at Quinn and jerked his head towards the beach before turning away. He barely spared Marlene a glance as he moved around her and down the stairs.

Quinn waited to make sure that all four people were inside the compound before she followed after Cara. His long legs had carried him nearly down to the water`s edge before she caught up to him, her breath coming little bursts. It had been a long time since she`s had such a fierce workout as today, a good reminder that she needed to be more diligent about keeping herself in shape. When they stopped, she looked straight ahead out over the water and waited for him to speak. While she could tell that the earlier events had affected him, he was closed off enough right now that she couldn`t pinpoint exactly what was making his eyes look so bleak. So that she  
didn't say the wrong thing, she did something she rarely ever did except in instances like this. She stayed silent.

Quinn's silent presence beside him actually made his guilt surge even higher. If she had spoken, if she had laughed, if she had done anything, he might have known what to say in response. But Quinn so rarely held her tongue that it threw him off, and he wondered if he had misread her look back on the deck.

When the silence had stretched out for too long, Cara too a deep breath, his shoulders sagging when he exhaled. He opened his mouth to tell her what had gone wrong with Phill. Instead, he started in on what he had learned from both Phill and Benjy regarding their marks. "The tattoos are very good. Phill said she could feel where you were hitting Benjy, though she couldn't feel his pain. She also said she was able to distinguish between his different heart beats. There will definitely be an adjustment period. There is no on and off switch on it, Quinn."

"You should have seen his face when she got hurt. It was something he definitely didn`t expect and it through him off." She turned to him, ready to tell him how she`s rethought the idea because, if she`d actually meant harm to him, she would have had the upper hand in those few seconds of surprise. But, instead, she saw that look in his eyes again. He`d comforted her this morning when she`d gone off the deep end. Now, she couldn`t help but do the same.

She moved his arm out of the way with practiced ease and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Is this about the tattoos? Would you rather not? Or is this about Phill`s surprising lack of restraint when it comes to inflicting harm on herself? Cause either way, you`re as white as a ghost."

His arm automatically resettled on her shoulder and he pulled her closer, taking all the comfort she was offering him. He thought over her words and his responses, but he knew without a doubt that he wasn't going to be backing out of the tattoos after what had just happened. That demonstration was not going to be for naught.

"I'm not changing my mind. If it's what you want, we'll do it." He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "And I'll do my best to make the transition period easy on you. You know, staying away from exploding buildings and the like." Though she couldn't see it, he still smiled against her hair. After a sigh, he added, "But there are some things we would need to discuss. There are a lot of advantages, but as you saw, there are some disadvantages as well. As I said, there's no on and off switch. It's all or nothing with those things. I don't know what Phill was talking about when she said it could be _more_ intrusive. We should be sure that it's what we're looking for. What we want."

He ignored her second question as it just wasn't something he was ready to deal with right now.

"And the feeling guilty part?" She didn't have to see his face to know that this conversation wasn't about the tattoos so she didn't even both to look up.

It still amazed her that, after all these years, Cara would try to hide things from her by just hoping she wouldn't remember them. Of course, she did the same thing. Some things she allowed him his silence (as she was sure that he did with her) but this was not one of these times. This was the sort of hurt that would eat at him.

"What happened exactly? Did she tell Benjy the truth?"

Of course she wasn't going to let it go. That wasn't Quinn's way. His hand fell from her shoulder and he stood up straighter. "She told Benjy the truth. I'm not really sure what happened. Benjy wasn't letting you get close enough to help me really understand the connection. We needed something more drastic to understand what good it would really do."

He easily unlatched her fingers and extracted himself from her hold. He kicked at the sand and then began walking along the water's edge, Quinn by his side. "Phill suggested hitting me as that would hurt her hand. But really, what was that going to show? I already knew that they were aware of the impacts. So I told her that I could subdue her, perhaps raise her heartbeat to get Benjy's attention. I don't recall if I suggested popping the joint of if she did. I think I did," he told her, frowning as he tried to recall the conversation. "Either way, that was where it was supposed to end. Enough pain to get Benjy's attention. That was all. I didn't realize --" He stopped and looked at her but quickly looked away. "I didn't realize I had her arm that tightly."

"I don't think it matters who decided what." Quinn kicked at a rock, watching it skitter through the sand as she tried not to get upset with this conversation. "What matters is that this isn't all on you. It wasn't like you walked up behind her and just broke her arm for no apparent reason. If you'd done that, this would be a different conversation. But let's think about this like two civilized adults. Would I ever allow you to hurt me like that? Would I suggest it for any reason?"

"I understand it's not all on me, Quinn, but that doesn't make it any less difficult to swallow. No matter what, I still shattered her arm. Which means I exerted more force than she was expecting. When she struggled, I should have relented slightly. Just as Cam and I have done when we spar. It's the same concept.

"That she asked me to pop her shoulder is irrelevant to the fact that I broke her arm instead. Or as well." He stopped walking, touching her arm so that she sopped as well and turned to look at him. "Not everybody has been through the kind of pain you have, Quinn. Some people do not look at pain quite so harshly. The pain of a dislocated shoulder was easily fixed. A slam into the all and it's back in. Something she's probably dealt with on many occasions, just as I have. It is not the same as having your arm shattered. Literally. Which she did not ask me to do."

"Then this is my fault more than yours. I am the one who asked to be shown what it does. It was my idea for us to get one. I`m the one who showed an interest in PhillLs tattoos in the first place. There is no way I`m letting you hold on to this guilt alone." She glared up at him when his expression didn't change. This was hard for her to admit but she couldn't let this continue if Cara was going to look at his tattoo and think back to this day. "I don`t want us to get them. You were right. They`re too dangerous. I could have done my share of injury to Benjy in those first seconds. He let down his guard. I don`t want you to ever do that because you feel my distress. You`re so worried about what I might feel that you've forgotten how you might react to _my_ pain. It could slow you down or make you back down. You hold too much guilt for yourself. I won`t heap anymore on you with this."

Cara actually scoffed when she tried to take some of the blame for his actions. "Don't be ridiculous, Quinn. This isn't anything to do with the tattoos themselves. Benjy's guard came down because he was in a safe environment. They've had those things for five years, and I'm sure this isn't the first time one of them has been hurt."

He reached out and cupped her face. "I already know how I react to your distress." His eyes clouded and his expression tightened, but his hand remained soft on her cheek. "If I believe you are in trouble, I will not slow down or back off." Though, he might kill but that was something he did not need to share with Quinn. Not in this moment. "The guilt I hold is for a reason. It is right that it is there. If I let it go, I might become complacent again." He sighed, feeling suddenly exhausted. "Just as the connection might help to ease your anxiety when one of us is hurt, it would do the same for me."

After another sigh, Cara's hand dropped and he started walking once more. "As far as today, I just need some time. It's one thing to hear a bunch crunch under your hand when it's meant to, when it's an enemy. When it's a long time friend..." He shrugged. "I'll be fine. I'll go talk to Phill when she's healed and that will help." He hoped. "Apologize properly. Just me to her, without an audience. I don't do public apologies well."

Something like tears clogged Quinn's eyes, and not because she was angry or even jealous of what Cara was saying. Her chest felt tight again because, try as she might, she couldn't get this particular knot to loosen. When she spent time with Cara like this, it was a continual ache inside her. He had this strange affect on her. He always had.

"I'll see what I can do to drag Benjy away. Or maybe Marlene can do the job for us." She tensed, waiting for Cara to respond to the words she'd said without thinking. "Or maybe not."

Oh buggering hell. Didn't that work out nicely. How the hell was he supposed to confront Benjy on his intentions towards Marlene now?

"Well, shit." Caradoc frowned. He'd been prepared to try and change the subject when he saw Quinn's eyes mist but she'd distracted them both sufficiently. "Maybe I'll just ask Benjy for a moment alone with Phill and then just bring it up before he leaves." Yes. A casual brushing of the topic would probably work better. His other hand came up to cup her face fully. "Decide about your tattoos, Quinn. I'll go talk to Phill and Benjy. Get it all off my chest now so you don't have to keep playing nursemaid to my ego." His lips lifted slightly at the corners.

She put her hands on top of his, enjoying the closeness. "How about this? You go talk to Phill and I'll talk to Benjy. Anything you say to him is going to be taken the wrong way and I know that's not your intentions. He doesn't know that, though. I know that I wasn't there when you and Cam found her but that doesn't mean that I can't explain to him a little more about what he's getting into. If he wants more information, he can come find you."

Quinn couldn't help but smile at his attempts to be... well, Cara. Everyone thought she was the one who kept their group together but really, it was all Cara. People only saw his muscles but really they hid a heart of gold that not everyone got to see. He was the one, all those years ago, that had decided to help her instead of looking the other way. He was the one who reminded both of his teammates that they needed to be thinking of other people instead of themselves in any given situation. It was one of the reasons she lo... and that was not a sentence she was going to finish, even in her own head.

"This way," she continued before she could get too flustered trying to push that thought back down where it belonged, "you can still be the frowny guy without being the frowny guy who could be charged with assault."

Caradoc laughed. "Nobody is going to be charged with assault, but you have a valid point." He turned his hands so he could take hers in his as he lowered them from her face. "You're amazing, Quinn O'Mara. In case I hadn't told you recently," he told her as he dropped one hand and used the other one to drag her back up the beach. When they had fallen into step with each other, he released her other hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "But you be sure to remind him that I'm not above being charged with assault. Just in case he thinks about getting out of line."

Truth be told, though, he rather liked the bloke. Reminded him a bit of himself except perhaps more level headed. Sometimes a hot temper was what was needed to get the job done, and that was what made Caradoc the precision operative he was.

"And I'm not the frowny guy," he said, bumping her with his hip and then stumbling with her when her feet crossed over themselves. He released his hold on her only so they didn't fall to the ground, but when she had righted herself, he put his arm back around her. "I smile when there is a reason. Just not everybody is lucky enough to see it."

"Then I guess I'm the luckiest person in the whole world 'cause I get to see you smile all the time. And because I like you so much, I won't even let Benjy in on the secret to telling the difference between your frowns. What he doesn't know, won't kill him." She bumped her hip into his body this time, laughing when it didn't do a thing to throw off his rhythm. "And for your information, I already know what tattoo we're going to get. I've had it drawn out for awhile."

"Of course you're the luckiest person alive," he told her, giving her a squeeze and laughing along with her. It amused him when she laughed at herself. "You know me." His cheek earned him an exaggerated eye roll, another bump, and an elbow to his side for good measure. "You love me, Quinn O'Mara, and you'd not have me any other way."

He slowed and allowed her to go up the stairs before him. "So what tattoo are we going to get? Nothing fancy, I hope. This body isn't made for butterflies and hearts."

"What? You don't want a butterfly? Now I'll have to redraw them because I'm in just in a butterfly mood these days." Quinn turned around, poised on the stairs above him so that she was actually taller. It was odd to see him from this position when she always looked up at him. "No, silly. It has... dragons. And don't you dare roll your eyes at me. It was something I've been thinking about for awhile. That the dragons will be more alive than ink just makes it better."

That Quinn would choose dragons to represent them as a team did not surprise him. "I'm not going to roll my eyes," he told her. "Dragons are fearsome creatures. They're powerful and courageous and intelligent and extremely protective. Which is why they're used to guard valuables."

Caradoc stepped on her step so that he was once again taller than her. "I think they're perfect." He dropped a kiss on her temple. "I wonder what Adi has to fill this empty hole that is my stomach," he said as he moved around her. "All this excitement makes a bloke wish he hadn't missed out on breakfast."

"Considering it's nearly lunch," Quinn muttered as she tried not to smile "you should be famished." Sometimes, Cara made her very happy. Granted, sometimes she wanted to hit him or yell at him in the most undignified of ways but more often than not, he made her smile. The last thing she ever wanted to do was ruin that.


	15. Safe to Land

Practice had been hell. It always was when the press was allowed in, as if Coach felt there was something to prove to the rest of the Quidditch world. Rebecca didn't really mind the difficulty of these practices, though she was of the mindset that their standings in the European league as well as their world ranking did much of the talking for them. It was hard to argue with the types of numbers she and her teammates racked up over the course of a season. Though, she might have preferred the practice not be so bar raising the one day that Camillo Figge was lurking in the shadows watching her. She was good, but it was still nice to be able to show off just a little bit in front of somebody you wanted to impress. That would have to wait for another day though. One when the coaching staff wasn't so hell-bent on reminding this team that they were merely mortals.

The only thing that kept Rebecca moving through the post-practice shower and dressing was the promise of actually making plans with Camillo instead of having to wait around hoping he might show up again in a week's time. It had been easy enough not to look to the place where Susanne had told her Camillo was taking shelter from the crushing throng of the press as her full attention had been on the drills she had been going through. All the same, she felt better knowing that he wasn't in the stands having his life picked apart by the relentless, ladder-climbing sharks. That was her life choice, not his.

As she pulled on a lightweight jumper and slid a pair sun glasses up and over her hair, she smiled at her roommate. The woman was a beast on the broom and Rebecca would be sporting a bruise on her shoulder for at least a week even with the healing paste currently spread over it. But the beatings they took in practice together made them a stronger force in matches. "Will you be home for dinner still?" she asked as she came to stand behind her best friend. She dropped her chin on the older woman's shoulder and watched as the last of the makeup was glossed into place.

"Do you want me to be?" Susanne quirked her eyebrow up as she met Susanne's eyes in the mirror. "I was thinking you would want some privacy? Or do you not think the day will last that long? Will you be setting the timer and kicking him out?"

Rebecca laughed. "I might if you haven't made other plans for tonight. It's not like I'm going to run out on you. Though, if you had decided on something else..." She shrugged and then grinned. "I'm definitely going to take advantage of the opportunity." Merlin knew they might be few and far between with this particular man.

Susanne turned to face her friend, taking her face between both her hands. "Precious, I adore you for thinking of me but if you even once think of spending time with me over him, today of all days, I will personally go out there and find those reporters that I worked so diligently to get rid of for you. There is all the time in the world for us to spend time together. You may not get another day like this again soon. From the sounds of it, he happens to have the time and inclination now. Take him up on it."

The woman was beautiful, inside and out, and Rebecca was one of the lucky few who got to see all aspects of Susanne . Something she would be grateful for for all of eternity. "You're the best," she said, raising up on her toes to drop a quick kiss on Susanne's cheek. "It's a good thing I'm so damn likable or you might never have taken to me and then where would I be?" Lost, probably. Susanne had been the one constant in her life all these years besides Benjy and her mum and dad.

She hugged her best friend and then turned and picked up her bag. "Do try to stay out of trouble," she said with a wink before pulling her sunglasses down to cover her eyes as she exited the locker room.

Rebecca did not exit the tunnel; however, instead, she slipped through a door and used the passageways underneath the stadium to wind her way up to the concessions area. When she came to the right hallway, she climbed the stairs that led to the shadowy recess where Camillo would hopefully be waiting. The thought of getting to spend what remained of the afternoon with him, and perhaps a decent amount of the evening, gave her a little skip in her step and she did nothing to try and dissuade her body from its chipper movements.

"I wondered if you would still be waiting," she teased as she saw his large outline leaning against one of the walls. As she drew even with him, she couldn't help but notice the position he had chosen gave him an unobstructed view to both corridors. "Was the view decent?" she asked, indicating the end of the tunnel where the light was streaming in.

"Better than decent," Cam answered before reaching out to pull her tight against him. Before anyone took away this chance from him, he twisted his hand in her hair and kissed her long and deep. It had been entertaining watching her fly but he was mostly distracted by this moment right now. All he could think of during the entire practice was that he wanted very much for her to be alone when he saw her again so that he could do exactly this.

When he pulled back, they were both breathing hard. Her eyes were wide and, for a moment, he couldn't tell if she was happy or angry with him. "Sorry. I just spent the last few hours dreaming about that moment. Just had to make sure it happened before we get interrupted."

For a moment, she stayed silent, watching his mouth move but not sure she was truly hearing the words. She was too busy trying to steady herself. Physically, of course, she was rock solid as his strong arms were supporting all of her weight, but that kiss had sent her into a tail spin and she momentarily forgot where she was. When his words finally penetrated the fog in her mind, she laughed. "A quick study." She dropped her bag at his feet and raised up on her toes. "Don't apologize, just do it again."

He obliged and for several heartbeats, she was lost in this world that was just the two of them, but then a subtle cough from the stairwell drew them apart and Rebecca was reminded that this was neither the time nor the place. She glanced over at Labon simply smiled. "Would you like a tour of my house?" she asked Camillo with a sly smile.

Even though he would have preferred they stay right here and take advantage of the shadows in the deserted stadium, that wasn't feasible. Besides, in the safety of her own house, they could ditch the bodyguards. He'd done enough work in their place to know that they did their best to ignore the client in certain situations but he didn't relish the idea of having an audience if they progressed to something more than just kissing. The last thing he needed to think about was that possibility, though. He was already having trouble keeping his body and mind under control while he was this close to her.

"I"m not going to turn down an invitation like that." He reluctantly unwound his hands from her hair as she stepped away. One of her hands found his and they started walking back the way they'd both come. "And to answer the question that I know you'll never ask, you were extraordinary today. The whole lot of you are fantastic. Even though it was practice, I could tell how well you all function together. It's not something that all the teams can say."

Rebecca beamed. "Thank you." She turned and looked at him and then bumped him with her hip. "I would like to say I wasn't thinking that but I was," she said with a laugh. "I am very lucky to have found these people and to be a part of this team. They're great." She hitched her bag up so that it was hanging off her shoulder and then reached her now free hand over to grasp his bicep and lean into him. "I think the reason we work so well is because we don't have a superstar fighting for attention and glory. Some of those teams have members who have this need to be the star. Your boy Pearsons' team is like that. That young Park isn't as good as Kent and keeps trying to upstage him instead of working with him. Park is a great talent but he has a lot to learn and Kent could teach him but the boy's pride keeps getting in the way. Too bad because-" She chuckled as she realized she was on the verge of going into a long, probably boring discussion on the weaknesses of each of the teams. Something he probably didn't really care that much about.

"Sorry," she said, ducking her head. As they cleared the last of the steps, she saw the hoard of people on the pitch talking to different players. She quickly steered Camillo around the corner and then waited as Labon checked in with Donovan. When Labon nodded and then disappeared, Rebecca turned to Camillo. "Ready?"

Cam anchored his hands on her hips. He wasn't ready, never was for this sort of thing (although he wasn't sure if he meant being Apparated somewhere without doing anything to actively make it happen or if he was having trouble with the seeming complexity of the invitation) but he was more than ready to be somewhere more private. Even if all they did was talk for the next five hours, it would be enough that they were doing it with just each other for company.

"Ready."

Rebecca nodded and then they were gone, reappearing on the large cement pad at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the front door. Labon was waiting at the top, in front of the door with an expectant look on his face. She smiled up at Camillo. "As much as I'd like to show you around the gardens, Donovan would rather we go inside first."

She dropped one arm and led Camillo up the stairs and into the front foyer where she dropped her equipment bag. "Welcome to our home," she said as Labon reset the wards. He clapped Camillo on the shoulder, muttered something about 'Good Luck' and then disappeared around the corner.

Rebecca shook her head and then waved to the silver haired gentleman striding toward them with long, purposeful strides. "I'm guessing you already know our Head of Security," she whispered to Camillo before smiling at Donovan. "Hi, Donovan. Look who I found."

"You just cannot find a nice accountant, can you?" Donovan grinned and then extended his hand to the younger man he'd worked with too many years ago. "Camillo Figge. It is nice to see you under such pleasant circumstances. I am sorry for your recent loss, my boy. How are you otherwise?"

"We're hoping for some closure soon. Just following up on the few leads we were able to gather." Cam couldn't help but smile at Donovan as he tried to wrap his head around how small his world was right now. He'd heard that Donovan had landed some nice accounts over the years since leaving Gideon`s employ but he never thought he'd be a visitor to any of their houses. He was strictly a "back door" sort of person. "See you landed nicely. I suppose it would be nearly insulting for me to say that you've done good work here."

Donovan nodded and crossed his large arms over his chest. "I always do superb work. You've only seen a touch of what I have done." He laughed as Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Perhaps another time I will have to show you around and show you all of the things Beck does not. But for now, I shall let you two kids get on your way. If you do not feed her soon she is liable to become a bear and that would be a shame." He winked at Rebecca who simply shook her head. "It really is good to see you, Cam. You send everybody my best. Especially Q. And Adi."

After he shook Cam's hand again, Donovan tapped Rebecca's chin and then turned and walked off in the direction he had come from. Still shaking her head, Rebecca took Cam's hand and pulled him through the foyer and towards the kitchen. "He might be a pain in the arse but he's right. I'm starving. We'll start in that room and see where we get from there."

Once inside the kitchen, she dropped his hand and moved to the large ice box to her right. After she withdrew the two sandwiches waiting on the middle shelf, she handed one to him and then indicated the island for them to sit at as she grabbed the pitcher of lemonade. "Unless you wanted to sit at the dinner table," she pointed to the large rectangle table in front of them, "or the breakfast table?" This time her left index finger jutted out to indicate the round table in the cone-shaped area to her right. "Both have spectacular views of the back gardens."

She was pleased when he chose to sit at the breakfast table as it was more intimate than the large dinner table. Of course, neither table had anything on the formal dining room's monstrosity, but then, they only ever ate in there when they had a large audience. Rebecca dropped into the chair he pulled out for her and drew one knee up to rest her arm on. Cam sat next to her, both of their chairs angled so that they could look out. Rebecca pointed out the different landscaping themes as they ate and then, with their glasses in hand, they moved through the arch into the grand room.

"This is one of my favorite rooms in the house because of these windows." She ran a finger along the outer edge of one of the large picture windows that made up the majority of the room's wall. "Donovan hates them. Says they're a security nightmare, but I love them. We compromised by putting up that wall out there." She pointed out to the gray structure that looked much smaller than its fifteen feet from this distance. "And there are some other wards to keep people out and from seeing into the house from outside the property." She shrugged, thankful that Donovan had not insisted the windows go. There had been some other concessions she and Susanne had had to make but this feature had remained in tact. "Sometimes, I sit here for hours and watch the way the trees sway in the wind, their leaves dancing with each breath. It's beautiful. And open. I don't like to feel too confined. A pitfall of working in the air, I suppose."

Cam felt like he was overusing the word _beautiful_ but the house and the view really were beautiful. He'd never cared much where he lived as long as there was a roof to keep out the elements and a place to lay down to sleep from time to time. Over the years, he'd eaten as many meals while sitting on the ground as he had at a table. Comfort was not important to him, nor was what he saw out the windows. That being said, there was something about this home that made him appreciate both.

As he looked out over the sweeping expanse of lawn and the tall clumps of trees, he didn't wonder if he liked the house or the way that the house made Rebecca suddenly still. At every one of their meetings, she'd nearly hummed with an internal energy. Now, she was calm, both inside and out. He envied her the ability to be so completely at ease.

"This is your sanctuary," he said out loud, realizing the truth of the words as he spoke them. "And it suits you. All this open space. And the sun. So much sun."

She turned to find him watching her and not the scenery. A slight flush crept over her cheeks. Sure she was used to being watched by thousands of spectators, both on and off the pitch, but nobody had ever looked at her the way Camillo Figge did. As if he saw to the very heart of her.

With a small nod, Rebecca cleared her throat and then glanced back outside. "The original architects were brilliant. We really only had to make a few modifications when we bought the place." And additions, but somehow she felt that made her sound like one of those people who flaunted their money around. Though they often entertained and had on more than one occasion had several of their teammates spend the night or the weekend, they still never came close to utilizing all of the rooms they had added to this house. She wondered if Cam would pick up on that, and if he would think she could have used her money more wisely. Oh well. She was truly at home here and perhaps if they hadn't magically enhanced the rooms the security team used to live and train in, they might have used more of the sleeping quarters in the house.

"Come on. There's more to see before I show you my favorite part of the house." She slipped her hand back into his and steered him back into the hall they had started in, facing the front door. "The stairwell to the servant's living area below is down that hallway," she said, indicating the hall on their left. They have the most of the level down there with their own kitchen." That had been important to both she and Susanne so that those who took such great care of them could feel free to make whatever foods made them the most comfortable. "And there are three rooms down there. Susanne said she believed they were once the medical rooms when this house was used back in the Renaissance. Not that we use them in such a manner now, but they're very authentic and it seemed a shame to ruin such beautiful architecture. So we've kept them mostly the same. The whole area has most of the original features. Though, we added the loos and updated the wood flooring." She grinned and then pointed to the room to their left. "The formal dining room. We had a birthday celebration for in there four months ago and that was the last time we used that room. Though, this one," she pulled him into the parlour on their right, "is used often."

The room was decorated in mahogany leather seating and contrasting paneled walls. A huge circular area rug with swirling patterns of deep reds, browns, yellows and creams covering most of the wooden floor. There was a bar curving around the left hand side of the room and oil prints of autumn woods on the walls. Along the far wall, near the only window Donovan had allowed to remain in this room was a large billiard table, its felt matching the rest of the rooms dark decor. She laughed as she did every time she came into this room. "My mother despises this room. She insists that it was supposed to be a show room with our most expensive items arranged to show off our tastes and class where we could receive visitors." Her smile widened into a grin. "But we thought it was more fitting of our style to use it in this manner. I mean, who wants a room where you worry about who might sit on your sofa or spill a drink on the rug. I'd rather have a room stocked with my favorite ales. Besides, we live with nine men. They don't want an uptight room full of pretty delicate. They want a room where they can unwind on their day off and enjoy a game of billiards or darts and a drink."

After they'd spent a few moments wandering through the room, they left and went left out of the parlour. Continuing down the hallway, Rebecca pointed out the large guest room off the hall on their right and noted that it was the only guest room with a sitting room used as their sun room. "Though, you can only access it from outside or through that room it's nice to have tea in there sometimes. That's the room my parents like to use when they're here." She noted the Apparation room across from the security dormitories, which they did not go into, though she promised him that the room would likely be on any tour Donovan gave him as it was his domain.

"This is another of my favorite rooms," she told him as they entered the pool and sauna. Only half of the room had full windows, the back half to include the circular platform that contained a sauna. "I love the water." It reminded her of the time she and Benjy and her parents had spent on holidays. She and Benjy would spend hours in the water together, playing all types of different games until their bodies where shriveled and their mother forced them into towels.

"I spent most of my early life in the water. For a couple of years, I think I expected I could actually turn myself into one of the dolphins that migrated through near our house." Cam smiled, something he didn't often do while thinking of his early life. "Loah wanted to hunt dragons and I wanted to be a dolphin. What a fine pair we made."

He knelt down and ran a hand through the water. It was the perfect temperature and didn't feel harsh the way some of the water in this country did. He stood back up, wiping his hand on his jeans to dry. "This is nice. Do you get to use it often?"

For a moment, Rebecca nearly toppled him into the water but she refrained only because she didn't know which of his clothes might be ruined by the water or the chlorine. When he stood, she still had the wicked smile on her face. "It gets plenty of use, yes," she said, moving closer and walking her fingers up his hard abdomen to his chest. "I would think you would have been better suited as a merman." Her hand flattened over his heart. "So that you could show off all this muscle of yours."

Without taking her eyes from his, or her hand away, she nodded around the corner. "We have plenty of extra suits. You're welcome to look through them to see if one is in your size. We could spend some time exploring what a fine aquatic mammal you would have made." She was being polite, wanting him to enjoy himself. Her offer had absolutely nothing to do with her wanting to strip away most of his clothing, if not all as she was certain they had nothing for a man of his girth.

It was a nice offer but Cam wasn't about to take her up on it. At least not the suit part of it. He'd been polite up to this point, wanting to a good impression. The very last thing he wanted to do was to give her the impression that he didn't see right past all her words to the fire in her gaze. He hadn't kissed the smudge of mustard off the side of her mouth while they were eating, instead waiting patiently for her to notice it herself. He'd kept his hands to himself when she's stood in front of the window, the light outlining her like she was an angel sent to torment him. While they'd toured the parlour, he hadn't pulled her down onto one of the couches to see if it really would fit both of them if they stayed close enough together.

With this glorious pool of water beckoning to him, he wasn't about to give up another tantalizing invitation. He hadn't exactly come prepared to disrobe but there were only a few items he needed to divest himself of before he could jump in, if she really wanted him to stay decent. First and foremost, he took off the wide leather band at his wrist. While he'd gotten it wet plenty of times before, it was a bear to dry and respell. Quinn would have his hide if she knew that he could have taken it off and didn't. Next, he slipped his wand out from it's holder and tossed it down. Then the knife from his waistband. He left the two others in place for now.

"From what I know of my mythology, mermen didn't swim in suits." Cam took a step back away from the hand that had been overheating his chest. He shivered to think what it would feel like on his bare skin but that didn't speed him up any. Instead, he put his hands at the hem of his shirt and watched her eyes for any indication he should stop. When she smiled at him, that little half smile that made his body respond in all kinds of inappropriate ways, he pulled it up over his head and added it to the growing pile. "But I can if you'd like me to."

He played this game so well; as if he truly _did_ see right through her. She liked that about him. Her hand curled slightly against the fabric of his shirt as she watched items fall into a pile at his feet. She didn't even blink at the knife that came from his waistband even though she had not once felt it there when she touched him. But when he step back, teasing her with the possibility of having his skin so accessible, Rebecca had to remind herself to breathe.

No matter how much she had anticipated it, she was not prepared for the sight of his bare torso. Sweet Helga's breath. Something that beautiful and hard and perfect was straight out of fantasy. Or a romance novel. Yet, here he stood in front of her. Unable to find her voice at that precise moment, Rebecca simply shook her head slowly from side to side to answer his question. When his hand moved to the fastenings on his trousers, enough of her senses came back to her and she withdrew her own wand, sending a locking spell towards the entrance behind her and the one leading out to the back gardens before she added her wand to the growing pile. With a smile, she nodded for him to continue, though she made no moves to disrobe herself.

She wasn't talking, which was either a bad thing or it was very good. Since she wasn't looking away, he was going for the later.

He'd never given much thought to his body. It wasn't something he was vain about although he and Cara did have a continuing feud over who had the bigger biceps. There were just a very large amount of his time where he had nothing to do but sit and wait. Since he wasn't good at sitting still and had no other hobbies, he spent a lot of time exercising. A decent sit up beat pacing any day of the week.

Now, as he prepared to bare pretty much everything in a very well-lit room, he couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit self-conscious. Her reaction told him that she didn't find many faults with what he saw but still he couldn't help but wonder what exactly she saw that she liked.

As he worked at the fastenings, he toed off his boots. It didn't take any coordination to normally do this same thing but he was suddenly all thumbs. Still, he was able to get his footwear off without falling over. He dropped his trousers in a heap at his ankles, kicking them away to where he hoped the pile was. It would be embarrassing to have to hunt items of clothing down later on.

"I'm ready to get in. Are you?" He was in front of her in two steps, locking his arms around her waist. "You've got three seconds to get rid of anything you don't want wet."

Rebecca did not have time to fully appreciate him or his body before he had wrapped her in his arms. Though she had wanted to study every curve of every muscle on his gorgeous body, this was infinitely better. If she moved in any direction she found herself pressed against his warm skin. It sent waves of fire coursing through her body.

She was just about to insist they skip the pool and head straight for her room when his arms tightened. Rebecca realized her three seconds had elapsed and just as Cam whispered that her time was up, she brought her hands up and began wriggling in his arms.

"All right, all right. It's an old jumper but it's my favorite."

His arms loosened and she reached down and shimmied her way out of the top. Placing her hands against his chest, she pushed until he released her, and then she tossed the jumper to the growing pile and backed up.

"You were really going to throw me in, weren't you?" she asked with a smile as she reached up and quickly braided her hair. His grin made her laugh. "You're lucky you're so damn sexy," she told him, leaving the sentence hanging as she reached down and unfastened her denims. She shook her hips until they pooled at her feet and then she stepped out of them. Without warning, Rebecca took off running and dove into the pool, emerging a short distance away with a grin.

"Won't you join me my captivating merman?"

She thought he was damn sexy. That brought a smile to his face. Well, he thought she was the most beautiful thing on the earth so that just about made them even. Since she could fly, that gave her an automatic advantage over him.

But he could swim. With a shout of joy, he dove into the water and let his momentum carry him past Rebecca, all the way to the other wall. Without lifting out of the water for breath, he spun his body around and swam back to where she stood waiting for him. With one fluid motion, he put an arm under her knees and caught her body with the other so that he was holding her in his arms when he broke the surface.

"Hello, gorgeous." Her skin was slick under his roving lips as he followed various rivulets of water struggling to get back into the pool. "You have quite the pool here."

Maybe something here about the splashing?

Her eyes widened and she took a deep breath in preparation for going under the water but before her head was submerged, she was lifted. Her arms automatically locked around his neck and when he stood, with her in his arms, she couldn't help the grin that broke out on her lips.

"You're very quick," she said, a little breathless from amazement and the heat he was sending through her with those lips of his. "I thought I was certainly about to go under." She wiggled a bit until she was able to lie back flat in his arms, letting both the water and his arms support her. Her eyes closed, but her lips still curved in the smile he had brought to them. "You've not seen all of it yet. This end drops off over there for diving." She used the hand behind him to indicate the direction she was talking about. "And there's a lap area at the end back there," she told him, indicating with her other hand the section at the back end of the room. "You could show me how much endurance you have. Perhaps win another prize."

"You brought me here to watch me do laps?" He'd found a spot on her neck that made her tense when he licked at it and was loathe to let go of her to investigate the pool. If this was the only time he got to spend with her, and he didn't know if it would be or not, the last thing he wanted to do was to play in the water. At least not alone.

He moved on until he'd found her lips once again. "I'll give you a hint, angel. I can hold my breath for a very, very long time. I can do a handful of laps under the water without ever coming up for a breath. Or I can do... other things."

Other things. She was definitely voting for other things. Especially if these other things involved those delicious lips of his. It kept coming back to those things.

Rebecca folded herself at the waist until she slipped out of his arms and beneath the water's surface. She twisted slightly, grabbed his legs behind the knees and then slid up his body, her hands moving over his legs and then his arse and finally reaching his back, at which point her mouth joined the exploration. Her lips passed over the mottled scar across his abdomen but she did not pause over it even though a part of her wanted to show it special attention. As if she might be able to take back some of whatever pain had caused it. Instead, she kept traveling north until she broke the surface. Continuing her slow journey, she looked up at him but did not move away from his torso. When her progress would have required her to raise up on her toes, she allowed her hands to move faster and braced them on his shoulders in order to lift her legs up and wrap them around his waist. She traced his entire jawline with her kisses before stopping to hover over his mouth. With a slow smile, she pulled back. "Too bad. The prize was definitely worth it."

"I'm always up for a challenge." He forgotten how to breath so he doubted very much that he was going to be able to do anything but drown at this point. While she was wrapped around him already, he made sure to keep his arms around her. She was slippery, though. Had already gotten away from his once. He couldn't have that. "How would you like to test my endurance? I'm sure I can pass any of your tests with flying colors."

"I'm sure you can," she said. With her finger, she traced the path a drop of water was making its way from his hair down his face. "And I have every intention of testing your endurance, Camillo." She moved to another drop that was blazing a path next to his ear. When it had joined its fellows and was clinging to his jaw line, she leaned in and replaced her finger with her mouth next to his ear. "But not with laps," she added in the barest of whispers.

Since she could do nothing about his clothing with his hold on her, she decided to go for her own. Rebecca slid each of the straps of her bra down until they were below her elbows. Then she reached behind her and unclasped the garment before dropping her hands at her sides. All the while, she held his gaze and tried to remember to breathe properly.

He was moving to the edge of the pool before the bit of silky material had any time to float away. When he was at the steps and a bit more sure of his footing, his mouth found hers once again as he walked to the pile of clothing and other sundry items. "I promise you that I will go the distance, however long that proves to be, but I don't want either of us to drown. Also, I want to see all of you and too much of you will be under the water if we stay here."  
When she didn't immediately begin picking up the clothing when he set her on her feet, he piled everything in her arms and picked her up once again. With one arm under her back and one under her knees, he was unable to unlock the doors, though. Instead he stood and waited for her to get at it with her wand.

"Now, where's your room, angel?" He almost forgot his question when she turned her head. Her wet hair clung to the angles of her neck and chin, reminding him that he hadn't been able to explore that part of her quite like he would have liked to. The taste of her was something he couldn't get enough of and now that he had his opportunity, he wanted to be a glutton about her.

Rebecca smiled at him, and as much as it pained her to do, she insisted that he put her down. There was no way they could travel through the house like this. At least not when they had to pass by the dormitory. When he had reluctantly set her upright again, she grabbed her jumper and pulled it on and then, with a small pout, she handed him his trousers.

"I'll hang on to this," she added, folding his shirt over her arm. When she had rearranged the remaining articles, Rebecca released the charm on the doors and held out her hand to him. "Now for my favorite room."

They met no one on their quick trip up the stairs and past all of the guest rooms, though Rebecca could hear the sounds of the Wireless coming from Donovan's room. She pointed this out before she pushed the double doors to her own room open. Once they were inside, she immediately closed the doors and discarded her burdens on the bureau's top. As she turned back to him with a smile, she released her hair and shook it free of its braid.

"Would you like a hot shower to wash off the pool?" she asked in a soft voice.

Cam was learning not to turn her down when she offered up a suggestion. As she stood there with just a jumper on, and a wet jumper at that, he couldn't help but stand in awe of her yet again. Over the past couple of days, he'd discovered so many different sides to her. She wasn't just a one dimensional character that he might find in a picture in the papers. This was a living, breathing woman that made his blood burn and his body respond in ways that he'd experienced with few other women.

In three strides, he was within reach of her. Still, he hesitated a moment before reaching out his hand to stroke the skin along her cheekbone. "Only if I get to take you with me."

Rebecca bit her bottom lip and nodded. She backed away from him and disappeared into the shower room. A moment later, the water came on and when the steam began filtering out of the loo, she reappeared in the doorway. With slow, deliberate movements, she reached down and grasped her jumper, drawing it up and over her head.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," she said, letting the garment fall to floor.


	16. Just Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first date of Benjy and Marlene.

Everything was set perfectly. Dearborn had absolutely refused to even entertain the idea of Benjy escorting Marlene away from the Beach House, not that Benjy had expected to be allowed but he had to ask. Twice, in fact. That wasn't that hard of a problem to overcome, however, as the Beach House had everything one needed for a lovely date, except of course privacy. Phill was all he needed on that front. The only person to really be concerned with was Dearborn and he and Benjy were on such a tentative walk with each other that they both seemed to be making concessions they might not otherwise. Something Benjy wasn't above taking advantage of on this night.

Arabella, or Adi as she kept insisting he call her, had shown him the spot blocked by some of the rocky overhangs that had the best view of the ocean as the moon rose above it. Benjy had been more than happy to accept her on her word. A small wooden table set in the sand with two matching chairs sat parallel to the sea. He had originally transfigured the small beach set into a wrought iron set he had once seen at a Parisian cafe but Adi had insisted that the original wood would be less imposing and inspire a more relaxing tone. Since Benjy didn't date that often, he once again took the woman at her word, though he did transfigure two pillows so that the chairs were at least comfortable.

On one side of the table, he did insist on placing a single rose in a vase with two small candles framing it. Next to the table was a picnic basket on a small metal stand and a matching bucket of ice holding two bottles - wine and a carafe of water. Inside the basket was a variety of foods from Adi's kitchen, including a mix of some of Benjy's childhood favorites and some of Marlene's. And to mix it up, he had asked Adi to prepare a traditional Panna Cotta for dessert. With plenty of berries to choose from as an accompaniment.

The only thing that marred the scene was the rain, which Benjy had quickly taken care of by transfiguring several nearby twigs and leaves into a canopy which sheltered the immediate area from the rain while still allowing for an open view of the sea as the waves rolled in. Though the rain had ceased and the chill had passed, Benjy left the tent up so that he could keep a warming charm around them. Now, as he and Marlene walked past the spot where he and Quinn had sparred yesterday towards the table, Benjy actually felt himself getting nervous. What if this was too much? What if she had been looking for a simple picnic on a blanket? Sweet Hestia- this was why he didn't date. Well, that and that there just simply hadn't been anybody who seemed like they were worth the trouble.

"You're not cold, are you?"

"No. I'm fine." Marlene tugged at the hem of the shirt that she'd picked out from Dorcas' extra clothes she kept at the Beach House, most of them nearly ten years out of style and still not fitting as well as she would have liked. It seemed her friend wasn't on hand often although she'd sent numerous messages of apology that she hadn't been on hand sooner. It was enough that she'd reminded Adi of her extra clothes and given permission for Marlene to enter the small room where she kept her few possessions. These clothes were giving her a better mindset about this whole thing. Meeting Benjy for breakfasts and the occasional dinner was one thing. This was a date.

She'd been able to look past that fact until the moment he'd come to get her and, realizing she didn't have a jacket, had given her his. It was the sort of thing men did in books. Neither of them were the _happily ever after_ sort but it didn't mean that she could get past the butterflies that were zooming around in her stomach or her desire to smile broadly and sigh over how walking through the sand with him made her feel.

"Are you sure you don't need your coat back?" Oh, yes. She was coming up with such winning things to say. If this was going to be the extent of the conversation topics between them (the weather was bound to be their next topic of discussion but that wouldn't last long and had already been touched on), they were in for a quiet evening.

"No," he said, shaking his head but keeping his eyes on the horizon. "I'm perfectly all right." Now he did turn and look at her, a smile glued to his face. "The table is heated though, so you should be warmer there. It was really the only place I could come up with that offered some kind of privacy. We've had enough interruptions. It's like this lot doesn't know what alone time is."

Even with her bottom lip snagged between her teeth, she couldn't stop herself from smiling back at him. His eyes looked wrong, she noticed. They didn't match the rest of his expression. Did he want to be here? Was he nervous? Well, she hadn't done anything out of place so she knew it wasn't her. It was something to think about later, though. There was already too much to deal with now.

"This place is definitely more of a boarding school than I expected it to be. I suppose if they want privacy, they go somewhere else. We just weren't that lucky." Cara had given her a brief run down of Benjy's request and why he couldn't allow it. All Quinn had done was given her a sympathetic smile as he had tried to make her see the reasons behind it, even though Marlene had never once questioned him about it. Out loud, that was. She was screaming at him on the inside. Maybe he'd picked up on that. She didn't care. Right now, she wasn't happy with any of her protectors for making her feel like a child who needed protecting.

"I'm sure I'll be plenty warm. I normally run a few degrees warmer than everyone else."

 _Idiot! Don't remind the pretty boy that you're a freak! That is NOT the kind of conversation you want to have._ She turned her face away as she felt her cheeks flood with colour. Maybe she was safer sticking to weather patterns.

His smile grew as her face flushed and he chuckled. "What a fit. Some people say I run a few degrees cooler than what is considered normal." When she looked back at him with a skeptical expression on her beautiful face, he laughed outright and held up his hands. "All right. You caught me. I have a perfectly normal core temperature. Boring, right?" he added with a wink.

They rounded the corner and Benjy found his earlier worries draining away. The sun was just setting, leaving an orange and pink glow over the water and highlighting the rocks with a beautiful shade of purple. He cleared his throat and moved to the nearest chair, pulling it out for her.

"I do you hope you brought your appetite."

"You know, it's the one thing I bring with me everywhere I go." Marlene settled into the chair before turning her attention to the sky. From here, with the color staining the water as well as the horizon, it was like they were alone on an alien planet where everything was a different colour than what was normal. She found herself sighing with contentment as the peace of the place washed over her.

Then she looked over at the table and almost sighed again when she saw the rose again. "My favorite colour. It matches the sky right now. Amazing timing."

Benjy watched her as she took in their surroundings, smiling softly at her sighs. He took the bottle of wine from the bucket and held it up to her. When she nodded, he popped the cork and poured each of them a measure before returning the bottle to the ice and taking his own seat.

"I'm glad you like it," he told her, relaxing into his chair. "I was worried it might be a bit much, but as I said, I was tired of being interrupted." This time, his smile was relaxed and genuine as he reached into the basket and withdrew the plates Adi had noted were for the first course. He drew off the covering of one plate and found four figs, each peeled and wrapped in a thin slice of prosciutto ham. He took out the small cream pitcher which was filled with a balsamic dressing and after drizzling the liquid over the figs, he set the plate between them. Adding to it, he set a plate of sliced cheeses, apples and strawberries and the loaf of fresh baked bread next to the figs.

"Adi really went all out, didn't she?"

She took a bite of the fig before even bothering to set it on her plate first. The flavours came alive in her mouth. Funny how she'd never cared about what food she'd put in her mouth before coming here. She didn't know if it was Adi's cooking or the funny dinnertime banter. Whatever it was, she liked it. "This is like heaven in my mouth. I'll trade you all the strawberries for your share of the figs." She laughed when he pulled the plate of figs a little closer to his side of the table. "Or not."

When they were done dividing up this round of spoils and she'd had a chance to taste the exquisite wine, they settled into eating. "So I think it's my question, right? Where did we leave off?" She pretended to think even though she knew exactly what questions had been asked and answered. There were certain questions he wouldn't answer and she was learning how to keep them vague enough that he would answer. "Before this meal, what was the best thing you ever ate and where was it at?"

"There's no question. It was in Rome," Benjy said as he leaned back in his chair, the one lonely fig he had snagged for himself in his hand. He took a bite as he reflected over that statement. His grandmother's cooking was nothing to scoff at, and Rebecca's cooks could rival the best chefs in England, but when it came down to it, the best food he had ever been fortunate enough to taste was in a tiny Italian town where he and Phill and Rusty had been on assignment in the early years.

"There was this little hole-in-the-wall cafe in some back alley run by a woman smaller than Quinn. She was called Mamma Lucia though I'm certain her husband did not call her by that name so I think it might have been just for the business. The place was warm and welcoming and you could hear the children upstairs playing. And Mamma Lucia and the two girls that worked in there with her were covered in flour as if they were constantly baking." He smiled as he remembered the woman's wrinkled face and the way her smile was full of mischief. "She did not care that we had ordered a pizza pie, being the only thing on the menu we were even vaguely familiar with. Instead, she brought us two bowls of food. One was tortellini stuffed with ricotta and spinach and this absolutely amazing rosa sauce. All of it homemade, even the pasta. The other plate was something I would never have tried if she had told me what it was before I'd eaten it. It was called Rigatoni con la Pajata. The pajata was grilled and she served it over the rigatoni. It was delicious. I would never be able to duplicate the flavors she mixed together with her sauces and spices even if I could cook."

He looked at her, unsure if it was really appropriate to describe exactly what he had eaten while they were enjoying a meal. It was quite possible he would make her lose her appetite. After all, he had turned a special shade of white when Mamma Lucia had told him what he had just consumed. "Have you heard of pajata before?"

"Heard of it? Yes. Eaten it? No. You are a brave, brave man, Benjy Fenwick. I don't know if I could eat any kind of intestine but that has always made me a little uneasy. I'm assuming since you didn't know what you were getting, it would have just been the flavours you were enjoying and not the actual description of what it was. That's always the best way to eat food. Coming from a good Scots family, I wish I didn't know half of what I was eating when I was growing up. There comes this moment when you just have to forget all over again or you'll never eat a decent meal."

Even though there were pristine napkins out on the table, Marlene licked the tips of her fingers clean. There was something about fruit and cheese and those oh, so delicious figs that should have been something rather normal but this course had been anything but. "Oh, that was gorgeous," she said, as she pushed her empty plate away just so she wasn't tempted to lick it clean as well. "I almost don't want to drink any wine just so I don't lose all those flavours. Is this from Adi? I don't know just how she pulls off food like this. I could cook the same thing and never get it to taste as good."

Benjy nodded. He was enjoying watching her enjoy the food. "It's all from Adi. I thought it best not to poison you on our first outing." He dropped the last piece of cheese onto the remaining slice of apple and popped it into his mouth, following Marlene's lead in cleaning his fingers.

After depositing both of the empty plates into the basket's front pouch, Benjy lifted his glass, twirling it between his fingers. "I promise you that the wine is meant to complement the flavours, but if you'd rather something else- there are other choices of beverage."

"No, it's just..." but how to explain that she wanted to remember everything exactly as it was so that she'd have a stronger memory of it. Just like she'd been staring at the sunset, willing herself to remember the exact shade of pink and orange that blended into purple and blue. These once in a lifetime moments were what got her through the mundane moments that made up the rest of her life.

Instead, she very deliberately wiped her hands on her napkin before folding it back in her lap. It bought her some extra time to think of what she was going to say next. "The wine went wonderfully with the food. Thank you."

Benjy raised an eyebrow at her sudden odd behaviour. Though it wasn't really that sudden. Marlene was full of surprises. "All right, then," he said, leaning over and withdrawing the next course. Adi had told him he should wait some time between the courses, but Benjy was looking forward to dessert and he frankly didn't want to wait that much longer. There were plenty of things in this charmed basket to keep them satisfied if they found a need for it later on.

He placed a bowl of salad in front of Marlene and then set out his own salad. "I believe it is my turn now," he said as he placed three different dressings on the table as well. She nodded but Benjy gestured for her to select a dressing, opening it for her once she had made her choice. Only after they had both seasoned their salads to their liking, and Marlene had stabbed a forkful of the crisp greens did Benjy speak up again. "Why exactly were you rooting for Quinn in that little demonstration yesterday? I rather hoped you would be my own personal cheer section." His lips quirked, but he succeeded in keeping his expression flat as he gazed at her.

"First, she's a girl and girls should always stick together. Second, you were holding back and you shouldn't have. I realize the girl is as petite as you can get without being considered very small indeed but you should know better than to not fight as hard just because there's a female staring you down. It was my thought that by encouraging her, you might have stepped up your game." She pointed her fork at him. "And I was right. I saw you get angry there for a bit and it made you fight harder. Something good to know about you."

The wine went down smoothly as she debated whether to continue with her list. It got more personal as she went down it. "Third, I didn't want you to get a big head because you _had_ a cheering section. It might have actually put you at a disadvantage and we couldn't have that, now could we? And fourth, who said I never cheered for you? I just wasn't as forthright about it. You wouldn't want everyone to get the idea that I fancied you, would you?"

Benjy lost his battle to keep his face from showing emotion and smiled. He really liked the way this girl's mind worked. Of course, she had been Ravenclaw so it was unsurprising that she was bright, but she had perfectly analyzed a situation which she was unfamiliar with. Well, almost perfectly. Either way it was a major turn on.

He'd fought his share of women and he couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped as he thought of some of the bouts he and Phill had shared. Quinn was not an enemy though, and he had thought the whole situation was a bit ridiculous. No matter what Quinn had said, he thought that he and Dearborn would have been better matched. Or Phill and Quinn. Though, he had only thought that _after_ he had gone a round with the tiny woman. Before hand, he had been convinced that his best friend would have broken the fragile looking woman in one blink. He had learned long ago not to underestimate a person based on what they looked like, yet, he had still found himself doing just that. He convinced himself that it was only the relative "safe" environment that had brought his guard down. Though, Quinn fought dirty, and he wasn't used to that. He had discussed briefly with Phill that perhaps they ought to spar with the girl some more just so that they could both be more comfortable with that style. But this was not the time for those thoughts.

"Ah. So you care. That is good information to have." Benjy leaned forward, his eyes dancing with amusement. His gaze locked onto Marlene's. "Tell me. What is wrong with people getting the idea that you fancy me?" he asked, his lips tilted in a half smile. "That's exactly what I want people to think." He held her gaze for a moment longer, then grinned and leaned back, dragging his bowl back into place. "Seems a perfectly natural assumption to me," he added before spearing a tomato.

Marlene blinked, her mouth open to respond. When nothing came out, she closed her mouth and tried again. The problem was that she wasn't sure what to say. There were many things she wanted to say, all of them warring with her intellect. Instead, she went back to what was comfortable.

"I think it's my turn to ask the question." She concentrated on cutting all her lettuce into very small pieces so that she didn't have to look at him. "So... do you... do you fancy me?"

He ducked his head as he tried to catch her eye. She was doing a good job of avoiding his gaze and so he set his own fork down. He moved the salad bowl aside and reached across the table. Placing his hand on hers, he stilled her movements, ensuring she had nothing to distract her from looking up at him.

"I've obviously failed to make that clear," he said quietly, his expression softer than it had been a moment ago, though his lips were still pulled up into a smile. "I shall work harder to make sure you have no doubts. So you're quite clear," he told her, "I am quite taken with you, Marlene Matthews McKinnon. You are a fascinating woman and I find myself looking forward to what--" What might come out of your mouth next seemed wrong, so after the barest hesitation, he went with, "you have to say."

He should honour his promise to Phill at this moment, but it seemed inappropriate to segue from how much he fancied her to telling her that this would be their only time together. She wasn't asking him for some kind of commitment; she was just wanting confirmation of his attraction. He could give that without leading her on. Couldn't he?

She dropped the utensils in her hand, turning them so she could twine her fingers with his. It was nice to be able to touch him so easily, without having to erect some sort of mental barriers or deal with the consequences. It was just pressure and warmth and nothing else beyond a human connection.

Since he was smiling at her when she looked up again, she smiled back. "You say things like that and I lose my words." She turned his hand over so she could trace the lines of his palm with a shaky finger. "I know that not everyone likes to talk quite as much as we do. Sometimes I use words as a barrier but sometimes I need them. I use words the same way that other people use expressions, to better understand other people. Thank you for indulging me."

The moon was rising up over the water, giving them nearly as much light to see each other as the fading sun had. Marlene looked out over the view once again, drinking in the colors and the descriptions her brain was already formulating. "And thank you for this."

Benjy closed his hand around her finger, shifting their grasps so that they were once again twined together by their fingers. Even though she seemed receptive to it now, he was still tentative with his physical contact. For now, it was better for her to initiate the touch.

"You're welcome," he said softly. "Though, I should be thanking you for agreeing to spend this time with me." He squeezed her hand gently. "And it's not really indulging you when it benefits me as well." This question and answer game they had played over the last two days worked so well for them because their time was limited. He learned a lot about her from the things she wanted to know about him.

"I know you probably won't answer this and I know better than to ask but... who are you when you aren't here? I can tell that this is a comfortable place for you, as if you belong to the life that these people also lead so I don't need to know what it is that you do." Marlene thought about pulling back, taking back her question along with her hands but he'd never physically pulled back from her even if he didn't answer one of her questions. He wasn't hiding things from her. He just didn't answer everything she asked. The least she could do was be strong and not let her nerves make her retreat.

"Who are _you_ when you aren't around these people?" she asked again.

As always with those particular words, Benjy felt his smile slipping away. It had never seemed hard to _not_ explain his life since most people he encountered simply didn't have an inkling as to what his life was like. Even still, he had never had an issue with evasion, yet something about doing it with Marlene felt awkward and stifling. He didn't like it. Not even a little bit. He decided that was mostly because of their surroundings and circumstances. She already knew a more about his world than nearly anybody he had ever met in a casual setting, just not the darker corners that he and Phill resided in. It was a strange place to find himself after all these years.

But her question was not one that he would really have to evade. That didn't mean he had the answer. Relaxing a bit, he gave a slight shrug with one shoulder and shook his head. "That's one I can answer, but I'm not entirely sure how." He frowned and shifted in his chair. "I don't know. I don't guess that I'm much different really. I mean, I still enjoy the same things. I still get up every day and do the same things. Mostly." Though, they got to be a bit more overt about their intentions here, which was somewhat of a welcome relief. Stealth could be exhausting. And he was a little envious of the open relationship Figge seemed to be sharing with his sister (as evidenced from the morning edition of the papers) when Benjy had to sneak in and out of her life whenever he could find the time. Again, thoughts for another time.

"I eat better here. There's more time for sleep it seems. I like that. Sleep is sometimes a hard commodity to come by. I've always enjoyed the water so this location is rather ideal." In fact, he quite liked it here. And he was more than a bit drawn to the more open, here-I-am, lifestyle that this lot had. But that was not the path he had chosen. He did more good in the darkness. The Pack was able to get into the places that Camillo Figge and Caradoc Dearborn would never be able to.

"I don't know," he said again, his brows pulling together as he tried to determine if he'd answered her question properly or not. "I'm protective of those I care about. I play a mean game of darts. I'm not exactly a social butterfly but I'm by no means a recluse. I live alone but I still do not cook." Now his lips did curve back up. "I rely on Phill for most of my meals. I spend a lot of time with her an-" He nearly choked on his words as he was once again reminded that he would no longer spend that time with Rusty. Merlin, it came out of nowhere sometimes. Just completely blindsided him all over again. He tried to swallow several times, and when that was unsuccessful, he finally pulled his hand from hers and picked up his wine glass. After several drinks that were more appropriate for a lager, he finally said, "Sorry." His eyes moved back up to hers and he offered her a sheepish smile. "I don't know, Marlene. I guess I'm very much what you see now. I just don't get to show it all out in the real world.

"Is that what you wanted to know?"

While she'd never felt she was a very compassionate person, Marlene felt tears creep into the corners of her eyes as she watched the man across from her struggle with his composure. With a couple of swift blinks, she was able to get herself under control before he looked up. Even still, it was hard not to see the shadows that the effort had left.

"I've never thrown a dart before but I can dance a highland reel with the best of them. I fear it's the only athletic thing I can do. With everything else, my nerves get in the way."

She watched as some of the tension left his shoulders and tried very hard to squash down her sudden desire to kiss him. It was the very last thing she wanted to be thinking but she had started it with these personal questions. She had no one to blame but herself.

"'Tis a shame to say this while eating such brilliant food but I think cooking is highly overrated. If we were meant to cook for ourselves, the gods wouldn't have given us takeaway. But at least you have Phill to keep you from starving. There are all sorts of reason to keep her around."

It had been a struggle to lace those words with something as close to jealousy as she could get. She put a bite of salad into her mouth to keep from trying to explain the tone of voice away because the one thing that would set him on edge the other way from this pain was if she _insulted_ his partner. The trouble was that she couldn't do it easily but she needed his eyes to frost over the way they had when Phill was hurt. Then, at least, she could stop thinking of kissing him and concentrate on a new line of questioning.

Benjy watched her for a moment. She was very deliberate about her movements, and he was torn between feeling like a complete git for prattling on and on about another woman while on a date and feeling amused that Marlene would have even an ounce of jealousy with regards to him.

His lips twitched and he coughed to keep from laughing. The last thing he needed was to make her angrier. He settled for pushing the remnants of his salad around on his plate before scooping it up into his mouth. When he had washed it down with another sip of wine, he looked back up at her.

"There are. She has deadly accuracy and she hits harder than most blokes. But really, she's all I have. Neither of us really gets to spend a lot of time with family so..." He shrugged. "But that's all there is to it." They had never crossed that proverbial line, even when pretending to be a married couple. There are ways to fake anything and they had discovered most of them. Somehow he didn't think that this was information that Marlene would actually appreciate though so he kept that to himself.

"Now about this highland reel." His lips curved into a grin. "I would like to see this talent of yours. Perhaps you can show me now before you fill up on Adi's next course?"

Marlene sighed with a mixture of relief (that they were back on some sort of even ground) and regret (to have lost that little bit of intimacy) as she contemplated that request. "Well, if you're going to use food as a bribe, I suppose I can show you a little."

It had been years since she had performed, although when things got boring while she was alone in the stacks, she had been known to break into a few steps here and there, just for amusements sake. She wiped her mouth with the napkin and set it on the table. The sand would do just as well as any surface although it was nicer if the ground was firm. Shrugging out of his jacket and tugging, yet again, at the hem of Dorcas' shirt, she found a place that was away from the table but still relatively sheltered.

Before she started, she glanced at him and narrowed her eyes. "If you dare laugh, I'll find a way to convince Phill to hit you so hard you'll be eating soft food for a week."

Without waiting for his reply, she took the first position and closed her eyes. First she needed the tune, which wasn't too hard to dreg up from her memory. When she'd counted off enough beats that she thought she might be over the first attack of nerves, she started humming and dancing. It only took a few bars of song before she'd forgotten that she even had an audience and she gave herself over to the dance.

She'd only meant to show him part of a dance but, when all was said and done, she'd ended up dancing a full reel. The only reason she didn't start dancing another was because she landed wrong on her ankle in the soft sand as she hit the last movement. It was cushioned enough that she didn't feel more than a twinge but it brought her back to reality.

She smoothed down her hair and tugged at the hem as she made her way back to her chair. "I'll feel that in the morning," she proclaimed as she put her napkin back in her lap. "It's been a fair while since I've done that much dancing."

He'd been to Scotland, had even seen a few of these dances performed by different troupes, but Benjy had never seen it in such an intimate setting. With a single dancer versus a group, you really got to concentrate on the movements. Or perhaps that was just because of this particular dancer. Either way, he found himself entranced by the way her limbs moved with such fluidity, and as the dance continued, his eyes roamed over her body. He was completely unashamed that he enjoyed the way these clothes she'd found showed off her skin as she moved. When his gaze finally came to rest on her face, he sighed and smiled. Her expression was the calmest he had ever seen it. She always seemed to have a guarded air, even when she was smiling at you. Yet now, Marlene looked completely serene as she moved to the music in her head. It was nice to see her with her guard down.

When she had settled in her chair once again, Benjy smiled at her, though he was slightly disappointed that her expression was no longer as tranquil and that she was no longer dancing for him.Though, dancing _with_ him would be infinitely better. Something more intimate, of course. The idea of having her pressed against him was more appealing than the thought of Adi’s panna cotta. He’d have to make that happen before this night ended.

"That was beautiful, Marlene. Thank you." He chuckled at her flush and then held up his hands when her eyes shot back up to his. "That wasn't at the dance so there can be no recruiting hitting." He folded his arms on the table. "Now, I do believe I'm due at least three questions. Wouldn't you agree?"

With a sigh of relief that they were going back to the questions, Marlene mirrored his position but leaned her chin on her hand. She was slightly taken back by the fact that she was still trying to get her breath back. Dorcas was right. She did need to get out now and then. "Yes, I have taken more than my fair share. It's only right that you have some."

"Agreed. And since you made me look so deep, I think it is also only right to return the favour." He reached out and ran his finger up her arm. "I have two for now. First. Why do you keep tugging on that shirt you have on? And second, and this is probably where I tell you that you probably won't answer me, but I really want to know." He made sure her eyes were on his before he continued and then said, "Why do you always change the subject or withdraw when we come anywhere close to your personality? What is it that you think will send me running?"

"This outfit belongs to my friend, Dorcas." She was glad to start with the easy one since she would be working herself to the very thing she'd wanted to tell him just as much as she didn't want to tell. It was an odd war within herself that she'd been fighting since that first meeting in the kitchen. "I don't believe you've met her. She doesn't spend a lot of time here because she's... well, I suppose she's undercover. I've known her for years, since we were first in school. There was a time when we could share outfits but I seemed to have shot up since that time.

"She's the nicest person you'll ever meet, though. I think she likes just about everyone she's ever met. I mean, the girl has stayed my friend when most people would have given up. She's also the reason I work for Gideon. Well, the odd job here and there. He hasn't much call to use me but I think that was more my fault that his."

Marlene shrugged, letting her gaze roam further than Benjy's left ear, which is where she looked when she was having to answer something more than _What's your favourite colour?_ because she could never quite meet his eyes. It amazed her that he could always talk directly to her, as if he never had anything he was afraid to say. Even his non-answers were given with a smile (of one kind or another because the bloke had so many different types of smiles she wasn't sure she'd been able to catalog them all) that shamed her out of her glares.

"And I don't like talking about these things because I've gotten out of the habit. Since leaving school, I've lived a life that was forged with lies and deceit. My one fear has been that someone will recognize me or figure out who I am. It is very hard to give you that information after all this time of trying not to acknowledge it. Even something as simple as _What do you like to eat for breakfast?_ is hard to answer because what I would tell someone else is not what I want to tell you. Marlene Matthews likes porridge. Marlene McKinnon wants nothing more than a bannock smothered in rowan jelly like her mother always served when she was growing up."

She let her eyes trace around his mouth before lifting to meet his gaze. "I've never lied to you. But it's a false sense of security. When I leave here, I will have to put those barriers back up. Sometimes it is very hard to live your life behind barriers."

Benjy took several things away from that set of answers, the first ones that actually let him see into her. The first was confirmation that Marlene did in fact work for Gideon. He had started to believe that was the only logical explanation for Marlene's presence here at their headquarters, but it was good to have the truth from her mouth. He also felt relief to know that she had not outright lied to him in their little game of Q and A. Not that he would have had reason to be upset if she had. It wasn't as if either of them could be completely forthright with the other. He had evaded or refused to answer his share of questions.

In addition, he felt extremely sad for Marlene, even if she didn't want his pity. A sadness came into her eyes when she spoke of breakfast with her mother. It made his heart ache for her loss, even if he was starting to believe that was of her own doing and not that this family of hers truly didn't want her as she had first told him. In that vein, the last thing was not so much a revelation or confirmation, but he had begun to suspect that Marlene had the same gift her family did and knowing that she was working for Gideon and hiding behind a false identity only made that suspicion stronger.

"Barriers are rot," he agreed, his hand closing around her wrist. When she didn't close off, he slowly brought her hand away from her face and held it between his. "Marlene. If you were to have the gift of sight, would you be locked up on the compound the same as the rest of your family?" Now her body did tense and her expression tightened. Benjy immediately shook his head. "You don't have to feel the need to evade or lie. You can forget that I asked that." He smiled and brought her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips gently across her knuckles before he released her to find her comfort zone. "I'm sorry if my prying has pushed you into an uncomfortable place, but I for one, would be happy to let those barriers down for a while. If you want to share more with me, please know that I will always keep your secrets. I'm afraid we're only going to have this time while we're both here but if you'll let me, I'd like to be a barrier-free place for you. Even if it is only for a short while."

It was a nice thought to have someone else with whom she could be herself and not have to hide. If anyone knew how to keep a secret, it was Benjy Fenwick. He had enough of his own to be quite at home with the idea.

"I had an older brother. He was nearly nine years older than me. Very early on, he showed great compatibility with the McKinnon gifts. When he showed signs of the gifts on his sixteenth birthday, he was pulled out of school but was able to convince my parents to talk to the council about going back. They agreed but no one was happy about it."

She reached out for his hand, needing the small intimacy as she told the rest of her story. "He was taken from school. No one had any idea where he was or who had him. The clan went into immediate lockdown. I wasn't at school yet but everyone was brought home. The younger cousins thought it was grand to get to see all of the older cousins. We thought it was all fun and games. Until two months later when he was delivered to us, broken completely. He lived for two more months after that, by the sheer will of my mother alone. The clan decided that breaking the rules had been the cause of this and they tightened up the rules.

"I got ill around my sixteenth birthday. There was one of those rare bugs that sweeps through the school and was indiscriminate who it infected. I don't know if you were still there or not but most every single Ravenclaw came down with it in some degree. They had to bring in some of the St. Mungo's staff because Madam Pomfrey wasn't able to contain it herself. By the time that the clan was able to get me from school, I'd already figured out how to hide my abilities. Some, like my brother, get their full strength right at the beginning. It's very painful for them but they get it over with right at the beginning and are taught to deal with it right away."

As much as she needed to wipe the tears streaming down her cheeks, she didn't want to let go of his hands. This was the first time she'd ever told this story, Dorcas having lived through most of it with her. Most of what she felt was extreme agitation to be reliving it but there was also an undercurrent of satisfaction.

"I was there, you see, when my brother was learning. I saw what I had to do. But I also saw what had happened to him. I saw the shell of the man. They had gutted him of everything that he was. I knew I needed to be careful if I was going to lie to my family so that I didn't end up the same but I knew that the clan would essentially do the same thing to me. If I was forced to stay there, buffered from everyone and everything, I knew I would go slowly insane. And so I lied to them. I lied to my mother and father."

It all seemed to fall into place then. All of her strange behaviour, the little ticks that both amused and confused him. No wonder she was so closed off from everything around her. This poor woman had nobody to share her true self with. She had been forced to come up with an identity almost completely separate from who she really was in order to have some semblance of a life. And in doing so, she gave up not only her family, but the opportunity to learn from her elders. From those that could have taught her what she would need to know in order to function in everyday life. She had nobody to show her the right way and to let her be her without all the lies and covers. Being undercover was hard enough, but Benjy always knew he would be able to be himself again soon. Marlene never had that. And now she had opened up to him, shared it with him and he would be taking that away too. He had never wanted to hate his path as he did right now. Even when it took him from his family.

“And then you couldn’t go back for fear of them finding out your secret and keeping you there?” She answered in only the smallest of nods. Benjy withdrew one hand and moved around the table, turning her when he was next to her chair. He bent down and wiped away the tears that were flowing from her eyes. “I’m sorry that you’ve given up your family, Marlene. I’m sorry that you even had to make such a damning choice. But I can’t say that I don’t respect the hell out of you right now.” He didn’t really know what else to say to her and so he simply brought the hand he was holding up to his lips once again.

She started laughing slightly, hiccuping a bit as she struggled to gain some sort of composure. "Oh, please don't. I'm just a little girl who wants to have her own way and ran away. Don't think I'm anything special. Right now, I'm broken so I guess it doesn't even matter. They wouldn't want me."

Benjy smiled at her reaction, and shook his head. "I think you're amazing. You didn't want to be trapped in a place where you would basically be forced to stop learning about what the world has to offer. You wanted something more for yourself. That says a lot. And it should be admired. Forgive me, but I think your family has a lot to learn from you. It's just too bad that you're still sheltered away when there are ways to protect yourself. You just never had the opportunity to learn them."

He shifted his weight, so that it was more evenly distributed and he did not run the risk of his legs falling asleep and sending him tumbling into Marlene's lap. "Two more questions. Why don't you carry a wand? Was it lost in the explosion? That counts as one." He grinned and was rewarded with a teary smile. "That's better. And second, why do you say you're broken? Because you can touch me? Did the blast disrupt your ability? What did Loah say about that?"

He laughed lightly when she raised a brow at him. "Yes. That was more than two. But it's all tied up together so it counts as two."

"You keep asking questions without easy answers. Yes, my wand was lost in the explosion but it hasn't exactly been my constant companion since I came into these abilities. When I am around magic, my abilities manifest themselves. Even more so when I am producing that magic. Given time and practice, I should be able to use my wand effectively but I haven't made the time. Losing the wand itself has been no great loss although I do sometimes miss the magic itself. For instance," she looked down at the shirt that was again creeping up, "spells to make certain clothing items fit better."

The breath she let out was as much full of irritation at not being able to explain this all as well as she felt she should be able to as it was full of irritation with him for asking these questions that she would rather not really think about. While she wouldn't have rather kept it all to herself just for the sanity of not having to delve into the past, it was rather freeing. She could only hope that she was able to close it off once again when this idyllic night was over.

"And I don't know why I can touch you. Normally, such a thing would bring an immediate reaction that, depending on how much magic you retain in your body, could make me wince or send me to the floor. I've met very few people with that much magic, though. The first time I met Cara and Cam, I had a nagging headache that would have been bad if I hadn't had my void stones. When I met with Gideon, I only got the mildest of strain even without them. But you," she frowned, rubbing her thumbs over his skin. "I don't feel anything. There have been times, while I've been here, that I've been floored by the magic of the place. That's why Loah's kept me in the infirmary instead of sending me to a room. We haven't figured out why I feel it at some times and not at others so he wants to be cautious."

"So," he began, but once again, he really didn't know what to say. This was so new to him. He really knew very little about how the McKinnon magic worked. He also wasn't sure whether or not he should be put out that her system didn't seem to think he carried enough magic to affect her. Not that he wanted to give her a headache or anything, but a bloke did have his pride. "Perhaps you're not really broken then. It's just a side effect of the explosion. Perhaps given some more time, your system will readjust." And perhaps being away from here would help but he really didn't want to suggest that as somebody might think it a good idea and take her away before he was ready for this little ... whatever it was to be over.

"How have you felt tonight? This cover I made is full of magical residue and there is a constant heating charm on the thing."

Marlene took a moment to check to make sure she wasn't just pushing back a headache. "No. Nothing. I'm sure the explosion has done something that will eventually reset. It's been nice, though. It's not always comfortable seeing the future. There was a man I worked with and I saw him die every time he would pass by me. Since he drowned in a fountain, I'm going to assume the blast didn't get him."

She tugged at his hands. "Come. I don't want this fabulous night ruined by me. You've spent all this time and energy to set it up. We should enjoy it. No more tears or questions that have to be thought of before they can be answered."

Benjy smiled and stood, pulling her with him as he did. "I do not think anything has been ruined," he told her softly. "I enjoy getting to know you. As I said, you're a fascinating woman." His smile turned roguish. "And I rather like the fit of this shirt. Especially when you are dancing with your arms. But if you are that uncomfortable, I can adjust it for you. If you think that will be all right."

"Cheeky. Since you don't mind that I'm flashing skin and because it is borrowed and I'd hate to think that I ruined anything of Dorcas', I'll try to forget that I'm not dressed accordingly."

A sudden thought had her flushing and trying not to look at his mouth yet again. Still, she didn't know why she was fighting it. A beautiful setting. Wonderful food. She would take pains not to remember that she'd cried and was probably all splotchy. Why not cap it off with something to really remember this night?

"It's my question, correct?" When he nodded, she talked herself out of asking but then talked herself back into it again. But then she opened her mouth and nothing came out. Her hands were shaking. It shouldn't have been so frightening but she couldn't quite work up the courage to ask him for a kiss.

Instead, she let her eyes drop to his collar and tried not to blush. "I guess I can't think of a question. You realize you're witnessing history, right? You've reduced me to silence."

For a moment, Benjy had thought she was going to ask him to kiss her. Between the look in her eyes, the way her entire face had flushed and the way she looked over each of his features _but_ his mouth, it had only seemed a natural conclusion. However, when she dropped her gaze, Benjy had to fight to keep from chuckling, which he was sure would be the wrong response. Instead, he leaned forward and moved one hand to her waist, deliberately letting his thumb land on her skin. He placed his other hand under her chin and brought her still flushed face up so that she was forced to look at him.

"Then if you are speechless, I suppose it is my turn once again. Simply by default." Without giving her a chance to respond, he leaned closer until their noses were almost touching. "If I kiss you right now, are you going to slap me?"

Marlene shook her head slightly because she knew that if she were to speak, she'd say something that would ruin the perfect moment. Instead she moved closer so that she met him halfway. She'd done this a few times so knew what was expected of her but she wasn't even thinking of the dynamics of what she should be doing or what he was doing. All she was doing now was feeling, something she didn't allow herself to do often.

Both of her hands came up to clutch at the fabric of his shirt, the texture of the expensive weave smooth under her finger tips. Before she realized what she was doing, she'd used her grip on him to pull herself closer so that the kiss deepened.

It wasn't until she pulled him in closer that Benjy actually lost himself in the moment. Until then he was still completely aware of their surroundings, but when Marlene gave herself completely over, Benjy could do nothing but follow. He couldn't say how long they stood there, lost in the taste and feel of the kisses and each other, and the sounds of the ocean washing against the rocks. He was only brought back to himself by the call of a far off bird. Once he had broken the kiss, resting his forehead against hers, he realized just how lost he had let himself get. The hand under her chin had moved up her cheek and around to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair. His other hand had slid up her side and around to her back. His fingers were spread over her warm skin and her shirt was hitched almost completely up on one side, caught under his arm.

"Sorry," he whispered, pulling his hand from her back and tugging her shirt back into place. He looked at her then and had to resist starting the whole process over again. She was absolutely beautiful in this moment. The moonlight was framing her, falling gently around her hair and over her shoulders. Her face flushed in an entirely different way and her lips swollen from the contact. It gave the impression that she was an artist's masterpiece being showcased and he was the only one who got to appreciate her. In some ways, it made him sad that nobody got to see this beauty, but mostly he was grateful that this was only for him.

He shook his head as he stepped back and cleared his throat. Against his better judgement, Benjy leaned in and brushed his lips over hers once again, though he kept his composure and pulled back almost immediately. "Um..." When he couldn't think of something decent to say, something that wouldn't lead to him taking her down to the sand and doing things that were completely inappropriate for a first date, he simply asked, "Dinner?"

"Alright," she answered, struggling to get her breathing smoothed out and her heart rate back to normal. Instead of reaching out to smooth the wrinkles she'd created in the material of his shirt, as that might have led her to just clutching it in her fists again and seeing if she couldn't get back to what they'd been doing a moment ago, she sat back down in her chair. "I think I could do with something to drink that isn't wine. You said there was water?"

Benjy frowned as he watched her. She was reserved once again and he wondered if he had made her terribly uncomfortable with his shocking lack of restraint. Not that she hadn't been an active participant, but she likely hadn't been expecting him to go into some primal trance as he had.

He cleared his throat again. "Yes," he said quietly, reaching into the ice bucket and withdrawing a carafe of water. He poured her a glass, and then because he obviously did not need to imbibe either, he poured himself one as well. After he had carefully replaced the container and had cleared the table of all of its current dishes, he set about serving her the main course Adi had prepared for them. "Does this look acceptable?"

She was watching him with that guarded expression she got when he had asked a question that made her feel uncomfortable. Well shit. Now things felt awkward. Before she could answer, Benjy said, "I'm sorry Marlene. This was not my intent. I hope you can forgive my impertinence."

"Impertinence?" She laughed, hurrying to cover her mouth in hopes of not coming off like a complete idiot. When he didn't immediately follow suit, her stomach dropped. "You've pulled out the big words which means you're trying to calm me. And you're not smiling. Not even a little bit. I've done something, haven't I? I look wrong. Did I not look like I enjoyed the kiss? Sometimes I forget... I'm so used to hiding everything."

Marlene reached for his hand before she could think better of it. It was a struggle, but she let the protective shield fall away once again so that she wasn't constantly paying special attention to what she said and so that she could smile at him without pulling back from the emotion she wanted to portray.

"I didn't mean to hide that I liked it," she continued. "Or that I wish you'd do it again. Or that I'm slightly embarrassed to be feeling both those things. It seems a little wanton."

He glanced down at their hands, joined once again by contact she had initiated. As her concern that she had done something wrong penetrated his guilt, Benjy thought over what had just transpired. For a moment, as he replayed it in his mind, his eyes closed and his face creased further into a frown. All he could see was his primal reaction to her touch. He sighed as he opened his eyes, but he kept his gaze on her hands. "No. It wasn't you, I just..." He what? Forgot himself? Got caught up in her beauty and the way her lips felt against his? Yes, but that was no excuse for treating her that way. No matter how attracted he was to her, she still deserved more respect than that. "Oh hell, Marlene. I just didn't mean to start trying to undress you out in the open." No. He had meant to start undressing her. Period. No matter where it was. "That is not proper pre-dinner behavior an--" Bugger. What was wrong with him? He had meant to say first date behavior. He paused as her last words suddenly caught up with him. He realized that his subconscious was responding to _her_ and not his own guilt. She was uncomfortable, but not because of his actions. It was her own desires that had her feeling out of sorts.

His lips twitched slightly and he looked up at her. "Wait. What?"

"I was... apologizing. Because you'd gotten formal." She watched as he struggled with something, trying to figure out what was bothering him and what part she played in it. His smiles were hard enough to catalog; she hadn't even started with his other expressions. Her own expression tightened even as she tried to smile at him. "I thought it might be because I forgot and closed off without realizing it. I do that. It's a habit."

"I'm sorry, Marlene. Let me see if I can explain this properly." Benjy took a moment to gather his thoughts so as not to let this awkward moment spiral out of control. Well, any further than he'd already let it get. When he thought he had the right words, he smiled at her. "You did seem a bit reserved, but that was not why I got formal, as you say. I do not normally act so... well, so impertinent. I do not normally take such liberties. I was afraid that I had made you uncomfortable."

He tightened his hold on her hand, his smile growing. "But it was not my actions that made you uncomfortable, right?" When she nodded, he actually chuckled. "Well then, it appears I was just being a big girl's blouse, yes?"

"Your actions? No. They didn't make me uncomfortable at all." She looked away as her smile grew bigger than was probably proper to the situation. When she had herself under control once again, she lifted her eyes to his once again. "The last bloke who kissed me was looking to get in good with the chairman of the ORC. He thought I could help him. Maybe if he'd kissed like you, I wouldn't have minded being used. He was the one who should have apologized. Not you."

She tightened her grip on his hand even as she picked up her fork. This dinner was not anything like she'd thought it would be, partly because she thought it would be something like their previous meals, just without people to overhear their conversation. In a million years, she hadn't thought there would be kissing or that she would enjoy the kissing quite so much. Perhaps she should be the one apologising but she wasn't going to. Since he'd already tried to apologise, she also wasn't going to push the fact that she was hoping they could celebrate every break in the meal like that.

"I'm glad he was so thick or I might not have had the opportunity." He lifted her hand and took a hold of it with his other hand so that he could join in the eating. It felt like they had backed away from the proverbial cliff and were heading back in the right direction, and he just wanted to enjoy it.

"He wasn't just thick. He was stupid. Who uses a lower level clerk to get to the chairman of any organisation? Although, I suppose." She paused, looking at the situation through new eyes. When it had happened, she hadn't given it much though above writing down the whole situation in a letter to Dorcas. He'd left soon enough when she hadn't been willing to go to a dinner party with him. The chairman hadn't even been able to say for sure that he'd be attending the same party so what would it have mattered.

But maybe that hadn't been the whole reason that the man had pushed at her. Maybe he'd just wanted a date and didn't know how to ask. And wasn't she being the same with Benjy, too intimidated by the situation to tell him what she wanted? To talk to him in a way he deserved?

"I suppose I shouldn't talk about other blokes when I'm out with the best of the bunch, now should I? Sorry about that. I just had an epiphany about that whole situation so I guess it wasn't all for naught."

Benjy liked to watch her face when she was thinking something through. He wondered if she knew how open she was during those moments. When she came back to herself, he simply shook his head, his smile still resting comfortably on his lips.

"And what epiphany came to you?" he asked, placing his fork on the plate so he could wipe his mouth with the napkin that was still laying on the table instead of his lap.

Marlene took the moment it took to finish chewing to think about her answer. She wanted it to come out just right. "I can't even remember this guy's name. That wasn't what I was thinking about but it strikes me that I might have remembered his name if he hadn't tried to use me. Or maybe he wasn't using me but he was giving me a story because he was too afraid to ask me straight out. Well, and every time I was around him, I could see him kissing another woman and hello, I'm not going to get into that whole sharing thing. But that's beside the point. It suddenly dawned on me that I do the same thing he did. If I want something, I should ask for it. I wanted to kiss you but I was too afraid to ask. And then I was embarrassed by how much I liked kissing you and so I shut off. It's like I'm playing with you the same way that he played with me and that's wrong. I didn't like it and neither do you. So I'm going to be flat out with you. That was the best kiss I've ever had and if you want to kiss me again, you may. And if you don't, I'll be hurt but I'll survive. So... there you have it."

It took everything in her to keep her eyes on his because that was a lot of what she was talking about. Either she hid from him or she didn't. There was no middle ground where she could share some things and keep others back. This man knew more about her than anyone else and she could no longer include Dorcas on that list because this was one area they would never share, seeing as she wasn't that sort of girl.

But she let her eyes drop as another thought crept into her mind. "But then... maybe I'm being too forward. This isn't... this is not," she shook her head as she tried to process this new thought. "This is just a date. Dinner. Perhaps I'm sharing too much tonight. This is something I'm not as familiar with so perhaps I'm doing this wrong."

Benjy's expression sobered slightly as he tried to follow her train of thought. He was just about to respond when she suddenly started going in the opposite direction. When she stopped speaking again, he waited for a heartbeat to see if she were actually done and then he shook his head, bringing her hand to his lips.

"You're not doing anything wrong, Marlene. Technically, it is just a date, but then, given my chosen way of life, nothing is as simple as that. We've established that this may be a very limited run we have going on here, so I think it's important for us to be as honest as possible with each other. And we should do the things we want while we can because neither of us really knows when this time will be taken away from us." He had to work to keep from flinching at those words, but it really was better to keep that in both of their minds. "It helps me to know that you were not offended by my forwardness and that you want me to kiss you again because when I feel like kissing you, I won't be awkward about it thinking that maybe I'm pushing you too fast.

"I also think you should know that I feel honoured that you would tell me all of the things you've shared tonight." And he wished he could share with her the way she had shared with him. He just wasn't as careless as Gideon Prewett seemed to be. The man should have taken care to keep Marlene protected instead of leaving her out in the world without any viable means of defense.

"And just in case you were wondering, I will be kissing you again." As often as she would let him until this thing they were sharing had run its course. "And again."

There was a touch of relief in her smile when she realized she wasn't overstepping her bounds. The very last thing she wanted to do at this point was to make him think she wanted more than either of them could commit to. It was nice to not have to worry about intentions and futures and things that other people might have pushed at her. And wasn't it also a wonder that she wasn't being pestered by visions while trying to make conversation. That always made her slightly uneasy

"And I will never stop you. What are your thoughts on women who are forward?" She grinned slyly at him. "Does that put you off?"

Benjy mirrored her smile. He had been with women who had been forward _and_ it had been awkward, but then, he had been with women who had been assertive and it had been exciting. None of them; however, had ever turned him on quite like this woman in front of him. He was preparing to tell her just that, but then changed his mind. Instead, he evened out his features and shrugged.

"You know, I'm not quite sure. Perhaps," he told her, perfecting his innocent expression, "you ought to show me just what you mean so that we can be certain."

She should have known he'd do something like this. Now was not the time to back down or lose heart. The key, she knew from her past, was to act without thinking, something that went against everything she'd become.

Throwing all caution to the wind, she stood up but tightened her hold on his hand. Without that little bit of contact, she knew she would lose heart. Slowly, without taking her eyes of his, she circled the table. He'd followed her with his body so that he wasn't sitting correctly on his chair any longer. This still wasn't quite going to work. The problem with being forward, she decided, was that it had to happen in the moment. She couldn't very well make it happen. But, then, maybe she could.

"Scoot your chair back," she told him, nodding approvingly when he was in a better position. She straddled his lap, putting the hand that she'd been clutching on her hip where it had fit so well before. Picking up his other hand, she kissed his palm before putting it in a mirrored position. Then she went to work threading her own hands through his unbelievably soft hair. When he was well and truly captured, she bent her head down and kissed him.

It was a bit of an effort to keep his face neutral as she moved, but even that was nothing compared to the effort he had to exert when she had straddled him. The last thing he wanted to do was spook her into stopping. He was enjoying it far too much for her to lose her nerve. However, he could not hold back the soft sigh that escaped when her hands found his hair.

Once again, it was Marlene who deepened the kiss and Benjy's hands tightened on her hips as he struggled between pulling her down into his lap or standing so that he could lay her on the sand. Either option was going to give her more information than she was probably prepared for. Of course, perhaps it would be exactly what she was expecting.

With soft tugs, Benjy pulled at her waist until she was settled in his lap. Then he moved one hand up to her head as the other circled around her waist, holding her tightly against him. When the kiss broke, though he couldn't have said who it was that broke the contact, they were both breathless. He met her eyes and gave her an impish smile.

"I am a fan of forward when the woman is you," he whispered before capturing her lips again.

Marlene all but melted into Benjy, her body molding into his curves. One of her hands had escaped from the prison of his hair to fist in his shirt again, as if she was afraid he might try to push her away before she was ready to leave.

Her lungs were protesting the lack of oxygen so she pulled away but only far enough that she could see his whole face. Up this close, he looked different. There were tiny lines at the corners of his eyes that gave away the stress of his life. She'd vaguely remembering seeing the barest hint of the shadow of his beard but now she was this close, she could follow the line of dark hair around his jaw. She moved her hand from his hair down to trace his cheekbones, memorizing the feel of his skin against hers.

"I like touching you," she told him, the sound barely louder than a whisper. "I like being able to touch you."

He closed his eyes as her fingers moved over his face. Content. That was the only way he could think to describe what he was feeling. Though, he couldn't understand how he could be so completely at peace in an unfamiliar setting with a woman he had truly just met two days ago. It seemed impossible, yet he couldn't remember a time he had felt this at ease, this calm. And she fit against him so perfectly it was as if they had been carved from the same stone. She was perfect. This was perfect.

Her words had him opening his eyes and he reached up to cover her hand with his own. He wished he could reassure her that she could do it at any time she wanted, but he knew that even if they weren't going to be separated by choices, they would never have this intimacy again. The thought that she wouldn't be able to touch him like this without being nagged by what might be coming in his future made him want to frown but he couldn't when she was this close. Selfishly, Benjy found himself hoping that whatever had been disrupted by the explosion was not corrected in their time together.

He turned his face so that he could kiss her palm the way she had done. "I like the way you touch me," he returned. He also liked the way she looked at him. And the heat her body was throwing off. All of which was making it increasingly hard to keep some kind of control over himself. He leaned forward and ran his lips lightly over hers again. "We should probably finish this meal before I do something crazy." Like decide they needed to work up an appetite.

"Food. Right. That's what we're here for." But she didn't move. Not right away. She kissed the corner of his mouth on the side that would go up when he was amused but didn't really want to show it. Then she brushed her lips along a line of freckles that seemed like they were left over from his childhood and not something the adult Benjy should have at all. With one last kiss on his lips, barely just a touch of hers to his, she stood up on unsteady legs and walked over to her seat once again.

"So, I can really do that any time I want?" she asked, still slightly in awe of this whole situation. It was a gift, she realized. Someone she fancied, fancied her right back. Really, she wanted to touch her lips with her fingers to make sure that she hadn't imagined it but she was unsure how steady her hands were at the moment. Her whole body was still processing the last few minutes and the nerves had started to kick in.

No, not nerves. That wasn't the right way to explain it. That made it seem as if she was nervous when really she was buzzing with excitement and lust and adoration and... happiness. When was the last time she'd been happy? Not the forced happy that she convinced herself she had to be so that the smile on her face stayed in place. This was something real. Something that she hadn't had to manufacture but just happened. She did touch her mouth then, noticing that she was smiling without any conscious thought.

It wasn't really a surprise that he felt cold when she was no longer sitting with him. With an inaudible sigh, Benjy shifted his chair back around and tried not to show any disappointment that she had actually taken him up on eating instead of crazier activities. He was trying to find the right words to answer her question when she reached up and touched the smile on her lips. Her expression was serene again, like it had been when she was dancing. Being with him had put that smile on her face and he would be damned before he said anything to change that look.

"Any time you want."


	17. Always With the New Location

Dorcas knew that she had been thinking of Loah and what he would have done for Sirius if the boy had been at the Beach House, but she had also been thinking of the comfort that this school sorely lacked and how sometimes this room provided that for her. When she had opened the door, it had seemed warmed and welcoming yet fully stocked with medical supplies and food stores. She had thought that the kids could have stayed here for the entire year if they had wanted to. It would definitely get them through the next week or so while Sirius fully healed.

Now, however, as she walked around the place with Loah at her side, she could definitely see the similarities to the Beach House. Something she had not really noticed until Loah had started chuckling. The chairs were the high backed ones that Adi liked to have in the library, and the floor to ceiling shelves were stocked with books just as the one at the Beach House. A small couch sat at an angle to a false window that overlooked a cliff where water could be heard. “They’ve been holed up in a cupboard. I thought it might be a nice change of pace for them,” she explained when Loah looked at it with that annoyingly amused look on his face.

The supply cabinets on the right hand side were nearly identical to the ones Loah kept in his infirmary, but that was not a surprise since she had been thinking of the man when she’d been visualizing the room’s necessities. “I know you brought some things with you, but do you think we need anything else?” she asked as the sat down in two of the chairs. “I don’t really know what’s wrong with him other than the two things I told you about. But I don’t know the extent of those injuries and what other ones he might have. Alice is very capable," she added in a sad tone. "The poor girl has had to be. Poppy just... well, Alice has had to be."

"This castle should be a sanctuary," Loah muttered as he took a quick overview of the medicines in the supply cabinet. There were some duplicates of what he had in his bag, some bottles he thought were rather redundant and some that he didn't figure he'd use but who was he to argue with the room. "It looks like I have everything I'm going to need as long as he hasn't gotten worse. I wish we could have figured a way to get to them earlier. I've lost sleep over this and you know how I hate to lose sleep."

Dorcas smiled. "Yes. I'm sure Adi is not that pleased with you losing sleep either." She shook her head and leaned forward, dropping her elbows on her knees and resting her chin in her hands. "I don't know how I lost her. I did everything Cam always told me to do and she was just gone. I've checked all of the nooks I know about and even found a couple of new places I had not known about." Dorcas began chewing on half of her lower lip. "They're very resourceful which I suppose we should be grateful for but it makes it very hard to help them when they don't want to be helped."

She looked at the clock on the wall over the counters near the food stores. The match had been underway for ten minutes now which meant that Alice and Sirius would be leaving their hiding hole. Alice had indicated it would take them roughly fifteen minutes to get to the room. She turned back to Loah. "I'm sorry I couldn't get you here sooner, Loah. I hope the damage is repairable."

"You did what you could. It's difficult to help those who don't want help. I don't know why Gideon was so dead-set on leaving them here all these years. We should have stepped in as soon as the attacks started getting bad. Neither of them should have had to suffer like that."

Loah closed the cabinet and moved away. He was harping on a years old argument that had been running through the Group since the Young Prince had been discovered to be within their grasp at the school. They'd had the means for so many years and had put Dorcas' life on the line countless times just so they might get a better payout. On this, he and Cam agreed, which was odd for them. Normally they were counter-intuitive with each other on the direction the Group should head in. Even their united defense hadn't been enough to sway the Prewetts.

"And there is little that is unrepairable. Don't even let it worry you." But he knew that it was weighing on her heavily. The set of her shoulders was tense and tight, as if she was expecting the worst. No matter what, he would never add to her burden by bringing up his own fears. "As long as that boy is still breathing, I'll make him right again."

"I know you will," she said softly. It was hard not to take the good Healer at his word. Loah Figge was perfectly suited to be a Healer. He had kind, yet knowing, eyes and a way of speaking to people that put them at immediate ease with him. Still, she wouldn't be able to fully relax and trust in Loah's words until she actually laid eyes on Sirius. It wasn't until last year that Alice had started hiding the boy away during recoveries and it had added years to Dorcas' life.

"And how is Marlene doing? I haven't heard from her since she asked for some clothes." What she really wanted to know was how Marlene's date had gone, but that seemed inappropriate. Not only because of the matter for which Loah were here for, but because Loah was not the right person to ask about Marlene's love life. That was a private matter. Still, despite her anxiousness over the kids, Dorcas was still eager to hear if Marlene was happy. It's all she had ever wanted for her friend and somehow, it had always seemed so far off. If not downright impossible.

"I'm still trying to figure out what is causing these _episodes_ , for want of a better word, she's been having. They just seem to happen rather randomly. Nothing like how she's explained to me before she came to us. They always seem to be of the same severity which only depends on the length with which she suffers. Charting them has done little good. I have several theories which I'm testing but," here he sighed, hating the feeling that he was using Marlene as a human guinea pig for his wild ideas, "at this point, it's all speculation. I have nothing which to base these suppositions."

He shook his head, dispelling the fog of ideas he found himself lost in more and more these days. "I do think the clothes did their job, though. She seemed much more comfortable leaving the Infirmary last night than she previously. Adi could never convince her to accept the gift of any of her clothes but it was different coming from you. I think she let herself relax enough to enjoy herself, something that has been sadly lacking for her since she arrived. It might also have had something to do with the young man who came calling for her."

The smile Loah gave Dorcas was full of mischief. "But then that would be supposition on my part, now wouldn't it? I did have to shoo Caradoc away from the entrance to the room several times as he had every intention of meeting them on their way back. It was only my promise to do so that kept him away. Sadly, I found myself busy in the back room for several minutes when they first arrived so was not able to greet them until Benjy had already left."

The worry and curiosity that Dorcas had been feeling at the start of his explanation vanished on a loud burst of laughter. "Oh Loah. You really are the best. The last thing she would have needed was a looming Caradoc waiting for them like some kind of interrogating father. Marlene said that he's been acting overly protective of her and the only thing I could think of was that he was jealous. But that seems odd since I've never known the bloke to have a jealous bone in his body." And why would he? she thought to herself but couldn't bring herself to say it out loud. "Men. No offense Loah."

He waved off her comment with a smile and Dorcas continued, "I'm sure you'll figure out what it is that's bothering her. Hopefully it's just a side effect and will wear off." Though, from the way it had been described, it didn't seem to be getting any better. "It's so odd. She's never described anything like it before."

Dorcas stood and moved towards the door. There was still time before the kids would be here but she was starting to work herself up. She didn't want them to arrive and think that she wasn't there. Who knows where they might disappear to then and when Dorcas would be able to have contact again. She was just about to tell Loah that he should wait in the room but the thought of standing outside with only her thoughts was not appealing. She'd likely drive herself mad. All her rational thought seemed to be out the window over the last few days. She turned and looked at him over her shoulder.

"Let's wait outside. But you'll have to stay as close to the door as possible. I don't want Alice to catch sight of you before I'm ready for her to. She might change the whole plan right then and there."

"You won't even know I'm here," Loah replied as he stood just in the opening. The longer he was here in this horrid place without his patient to look after, the more Loah grew uneasy. Anything could happen... and it often did.

Alice was trying very hard not to cry. In their little cave, she'd almost forgotten about the castle and the threats that could be around any and every corner. Since she'd woken up this morning, all she had thought about was the different people who might come after them, intent on harm.

But it wasn't a person who brought them down only a few feet into their run. It was the stairs. The very castle was intent on keeping them from their destination. While it was common knowledge that not all the stairs moved about, it wasn't common knowledge that some of the stairways just chose not to move, happy to be in one place. Five careful steps up and the stones bucked up and down for no apparent reason than to keep them from moving forward. Neither of them had been expecting it and so hadn't been holding on to anything but each other when it had happened. Sirius, already unstable on his feet had been easy prey but Alice might have been able to stay on her feet if she hadn't been concentrating more on what he was doing than on what was going on around her.

She payed for her moment of stupidity by falling against Sirius, pushing him against the wall. His grunt of pain had her falling back so that she landed on her hip without even trying to stop herself. The moment of pain was nothing compared to what he must be feeling, his groan more painful than anything she had ever experienced.

Now it was all she could do to keep herself from falling apart. Nothing was working the way it should. She'd thought she could get enough food to keep them going but the kitchen door had stopped opening for her yesterday and they'd eaten the last pieces of dry bread last night before they fell asleep. If it hadn't been the promise of a meal today, she might not have been able to quiet her grumbling stomach. Just as if it hadn't been the promise of medical attention, she wouldn't have rousted Sirius for anything. And now she'd broken him even more than he already had been.

"Can you try again?" she asked as she pushed herself off the ground. "I don't know if we should stay on this stairway much longer. It might decide to do something worse." Since she didn't want to give it any ideas, she kept her mouth shut about what those other things might be. "We need to keep moving."

He hadn't meant to let such a sound escape his lips. Not just because they were doing their best to be stealthy (a difficult feat in his current condition), but because he knew Alice was on edge. She was so strong but the strain of the last two days was more than evident in her tight features. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her more stress. But the fire that shot through his torso when she'd fallen against him nearly brought tears to his eyes.

"I just need a moment, love," he replied on a grunt. He knew they needed to move but the very thought made him want to throw up. He tried to take a deep breath but his ribs objected to the activity and he had to close his eyes against the pain. Still needing the air, he went with several smaller shallow breaths and then opened his eyes. Without looking at his best friend, Sirius turned in the direction they needed to head. He unclenched one fist in invitation for Alice to position herself as his support once more and when she placed herself gently under his arm, they began their slow journey once again.

Christ he hoped this room really was set up with everything they needed or they'd never be able to make their escape. Not with the messy shape he was still in. He also hoped there was an abundance of food as his head had been hurting since they'd had to start rationing the food Madame Meadows had given them. Something he hadn't told Alice for fear she might force him into eating her portions. As it was, the silly girl kept trying to give him her food and only ate it because Sirius kept pretending to go to sleep when she pushed it in his direction.

His vision swam and he once again closed his eyes as they finally crested the stairs. "Hold on," he breathed. When her eyes clouded in the way they did when she was worried, Sirius forced a smile. "Just the stairs, Wren. Does your hip hurt a lot?"

"A bit. I barely notice it." But that was a lie and she could tell he knew that she was lying to him, just as she knew he was lying to her. Her pain would go away as soon as she was able to walk it out a bit more. This slow pace was keeping her tense but she could tell he was reaching his limit already.

"It's just a bit further. We're almost there." She tightened her hand on his arm, afraid that if she let go of him, they'd get separated. Or worse but she didn't want to contemplate what that would be. "Just keep breathing."

He meant to tell her that breathing seemed to be part of the problem but all that came out was a mixture of grunts and wheezes. Deciding that trying again was effort he needed to be concentrating elsewhere, Sirius simply shook his head. Ever understanding, Alice did not press him but then that was how their relationship worked. They were as comfortable in silence as they were having each other on. Of course, in this instance Sirius couldn't be sure her silence wasn't fear. He opened his mouth to reassure her but yet again only a wheeze came out. That was a bit disconcerting but he couldn't focus on that right now. There would be time enough for that when they were tucked safely inside the room. Instead, he tightened his grip on the part of her shirt he was holding.

It seemed another hour before they were rounding the corner to the hallway that was only vaguely familiar. By the time they reached it, he was taking too many shallow breaths. His vision swam and he stopped again. They were so close but if he didn't stop, he was afraid he'd take them both down and the last thing he wanted to do was to cause any more damage to the hip she was trying not to favor.

When the black dots cleared, Sirius gave her shirt a tug and they began their forward progress once more. They'd not taken three steps when everything went black. "Wr-" was all he managed before the world went dark.

The scream came from the direction the children were supposed to be coming from, something that had Loah pulling out his wand before sense told him this was not the right time or place. He didn't care. Someone was in need of assistance and damned if he was going to sit around and wait to see what was happening before he acted.

With a glance at Dorcas, he saw she was thinking along the same lines because her wand was out as well. It would have been better to have her go first but his sense of honour had him taking the lead. When he nearly ran into the girl standing over the slumped figure, her wand pointed right at his heart, he wished he'd listened to his common sense.

"Who are you?"

He backed up, putting his hands instinctively up in the air. "I am here at the bequest of Dor- Madam Meadows. My name is Loah Figge. "

"Toss your wand over there." Even with his assurances that he was safe, she wasn't letting down her guard of the unconscious boy. He had to hold back a smile. Would he ever be free of ferocious mother lions protecting those they loved?

Dorcas had to skid to a halt to keep from running smack into Loah's back as he suddenly began moving backwards. She put her hand on his back to keep her balance and then stepped around him, her eyes locked on Alice's wand. "Put that away, Alice," she said as she looked down at the fallen prince. Her jaw tightened when Alice not only kept her wand trained on Loah, but shot Dorcas a dirty look that said all trust was gone.

"I brought Loah here because the injuries you described needed to be treated by more than a seventeen year old with no formal training could provide. Oh for Christ's sake, Alice McKinnon. Put that damned stick away and let us help him. You're wasting time." When Alice's wand only lowered slightly, Dorcas flipped her wrist and caught the girl's wand in its arc as it flew towards her. "Step aside and let my friend help him, Alice," she said in a slightly softer tone.

Alice tightened her hands into fists, her back teeth grinding together as she worked through the different ways this could go pear-shaped. The problem was that she kept coming back to the fact that Sirius was at her feet, unconscious. She'd tried moving him and she just didn't have it in her. "You don't touch him without telling me exactly what you're doing. And I want you to prove to me what you can do before you do anything to him."

 _Or what?_ Loah wanted to ask but he knew better than to test her determination. "That's fine. Would you allow me to carry him into the room? It's better that we get out of the open."

He watched as something broke in the girl's expression and then hardened all over again. "Fine. Do it." When he came forward, as slowly as he could with an unconscious victim waiting to be treated, she kept her eyes riveted on his face. He tried reaching out to touch her shoulder, to reassure her but she flinched away. Life had already taught her not to trust anyone.

"Can you tell me what he was doing before he went down?" he asked as he got his arms under the prone body, hoisting him up into his arms.  
   
"We had some trouble on the stairs. His ribs may have been injured again. He was having trouble breathing." Loah watched tears fill Alice's eyes but she never dropped her gaze, blinking them away but never breaking eye contact. "I think that's why he went down."

Loah got back to the room as quickly as he could, laying the Young Prince out on the examination table. When he tried reaching out to undo the buttons on his shirt, Alice laid a hand on his arm. "Me first," she reminded him, her eyes flat and hard once again.

He wanted to argue with her but it would only set them back. "Fine. What's wrong?"

Her mouth curled into a wry smile. "Nope. That's what you have to figure out. Otherwise, how do I know you can take care of him? You're the Healer. Figure it out."

Dorcas started to protest but he put up a hand to silence her. This was an easy one. "You said you had trouble with the stairs and that he hurt his ribs again. You're limping. Is there something wrong with your leg?" He brought up his wand to assess the situation, feeling the warmth run up his arm when he got to her hip. Without waiting to find out if that was what she wanted him to heal, he sent a spell to heal the protesting muscles. "No, your hip. You bruised it. That's an easy one. Can I work on your friend now?"

Alice stepped back so that Loah had better access to Sirius but she didn't move far enough away so that she couldn't see exactly what he was doing. Her hip felt better but that only partially soothed her. It wouldn't be until his eyes were open that she would take a deeper breath.

Dorcas was trying not to be upset. She had nothing to feel bad about. The boy needed more help than anyone in this school could provide and Alice was so damned stubborn she would have hidden Sirius away if Dorcas had even mentioned bringing in an outsider. She did what she had to do. She did her job.

It was all Dorcas could do not to demand that Loah give her a detailed account of what he was finding, but she knew that Alice would demand the information and Loah would provide it. That was how the man worked. None of this made it any easier for her to sit idly by while Sirius lay unconscious and Alice scowled from the shadows.

"Damn it," she hissed as she began to pace. "I should have insisted we move sooner. It just wasn't safe for the kids." She was talking more to herself than to any of the room's other occupants, but she needed to talk it out. Keeping it in was making her want to explode. "I'm sorry Loah. Is it bad?"

Once he'd been assured that there was nothing horribly wrong with the young man that he needed to take care of right away, Loah had begun a thorough examination. He looked up and smiled reassuringly at Dorcas, knowing she probably wouldn't feel better until both of her charges were out of this school and somewhere much safer. Hell, he'd feel better, too.

"It's better than I thought it would find. Miss McKinnon, you did a good job toward saving this boy's life. How did you know to reduce the brain swelling?"

"I didn't. Not really," she answered, her voice strained. "I was trying to reduce the swelling in his face and torso but the spell was a little... big. I couldn't concentrate well enough to keep it confined."

"Yes, well, it saved his life. His eyes look better than what I was led to believe."

"They were worse but they got better."

That faint explanation made him smile. "I suppose they did. I'm going to stabilize his ribs. It won't heal them but I don't dare do any of the bone healing spells until he's awake again. This will help him breathe better, though."

Sirius could hear the voices around him, though it was really only a faint buzzing. He was getting nothing concrete. His Wren was there. He could hear her voice and the tone was even tighter than before. And another female voice, who he assumed was Madame Meadows, but she wasn't talking much. Something he thought was strange. It was the third buzzing that had him concerned. It was definitely male and it was extremely close. As in over. The man was standing over Sirius. Bloody hell! What if it wasn't Madame Meadows? What if somebody had found them when he had gone down in the hallway.

Alice. He needed to help her, but he couldn't force his eyes open. Sirius took a deep breath, wincing in anticipation of the searing pain that normally accompanied that action. When there was only the pressure that had been there for the last day and a half, he took another one. More with the strange, he thought. He would have wagered money that he had re-broken his ribs when the stairs had bucked them, yet his breathing was not nearly as painful as it should have been. Perhaps he was dying and his body was no longer feeling the pain. Yes, perhaps his ribs had actually done the job and punctured something vital this time. He didn't know if that was how it actually worked or not, but it was the only explanation he could come up with. Damning as it was.

He wished he could see Alice's face one more time. He wished he could tell her how sorry he was that he hadn't been stronger for her. There were a lot of things he wished he could tell her.

"What did he say?"

Ah. So it was Madame Meadows. That was a relief. At least Alice would be in good hands. Instinctively, he turned his head towards his professor. "Al-" he sighed. There was light coming from somewhere and Sirius turned his head towards the source, his eyes coming open of their own volition. Alice's worried face was over his, along with Madame Meadows and the strange man. Sirius's eyes grew wide.

"No. Don't move. He's a friend of mine, Sirius. He's safe and he's here to Heal you. Alice is right here. Alice--"

Alice wasn't wasting any breath on explanations. Not when she saw the fear on Sirius' face. Not when her own stomach had been a mass of knots since she'd woken up this morning. When he'd landed on the ground at her feet, she had lost all heart in this fight. She was nothing without him. As often as she'd said that out loud, she'd never believed it more than in that moment. Her instinct to protect him was the only thing that had kept her from turning her wand on herself because she wasn't going to keep going if she was alone.

Now that his eyes were open and the reality that Sirius was alive hit her, she felt lightheaded with relief. Before she completely thought through her actions, Alice leaned forward and placed her lips against his. Just as quickly, she pulled away and set her forehead against his cheek as she tried to control the sobs that were just below the surface. If they came out now, she'd never get herself calmed down. That was always Sirius' job and he wasn't in the kind of shape for the job this would take.

"Don't you dare die on me, Jubil. Don't even contemplate it," she whispered.

Something in him relaxed when her lips touched his. He raised a hand and was slightly surprised when his arm actually obeyed the command and landed on the back of her head. When he felt her solid beneath his fingers, Sirius frowned. He had thought he was awake, but perhaps he was just dreaming. An odd dream to have though, with these people, one of whom he did not know, and in this strange room he did not recognize. "Wake?" he said in a shaky voice.

"You're awake, Sirius. And you're safe." It was Madame Meadows who answered and turned towards Alice, a smile forming on his lips when he saw her. He never dreamed that she was scared. That wasn't how he liked to think of her in those times so he knew he was awake now. And she had kissed him in a waking state. Well, mostly awake. He did feel as if he wanted to close his eyes and drift off, but he needed to find out what was going on before he could do that.

Sirius breathed the name he used when it was just them and then forced a smile. "Never, Wren," he whispered. "Never." Though he had thought for a moment that dying was exactly what he was doing, he wouldn't let her know that in this moment.

"Who's he?" he asked in the same quiet tones. He dragged his tired gaze away from Alice and moved them to the man who was here with Madame Meadows.

Dorcas swallowed back the lump that swelled in her throat at the sight of the two children. Though, in that moment, she saw them for what they truly were. Two young adults who had been forced to grow up too quickly in a lonely world. Two people who had survived by forging through together. Nobody would really understand the paternal feelings she had towards these two, not even them, she assumed.

"I am sorry, Sirius. This is my friend, Loah Figge. He's my Healer and I asked him here to heal the injuries that Miss McKinnon described. The quicker you are whole, the better." She shook her head at the unasked question. "He does not answer to the Ministry."

Loah cleared his throat before acknowledging the boy's glance with a nod. "Miss McKinnon did a fine job of patching you together but there are still several things I would like to check while I have you awake. You're most likely tired, a side effect of some of the healing, but I'd like to do these things before I let you sleep."

He laid a hand on Alice's shoulder, easing up when she flinched away. These kids still weren't convinced that they'd been rescued. "Would you mind standing away from the table? I'll be done in a few minutes and then you can," he was going to say _touch him all you want_ but that sounded odd so he went with, "be reassured that he's whole once again."

"What are you going to do?" she asked, her eyes still narrowed at him as if he was the enemy.

"I need to check his brain now that he's awake. It's not going to hurt him."

Sirius frowned at the man. "You do the ribs?" When he nodded Sirius pulled Alice so that his lips were against her ear. "Let him heal me, Wren. The quicker I am whole, the sooner we can leave and start our true life." He moved and let his lips close in a gentle kiss over the spot next to her ear and when she pulled back and looked down at him, he smiled. "I want that," he said, his voice pitched a little louder so the others were no longer excluded from the conversation. "I want that."

There was a scrapping noise that drew everyone's attention. "Come over here, Alice. Please." Dorcas tapped the back of one of the chairs she had just scooted to the side of the room. Sirius noted that it was still out of the way of the Healer, but close enough that they could keep eye contact. "You can even have this back if it makes you more comfortable," Dorcas said, holding up Alice's wand.

Alice kept her face set in a slight frown as she took the wand from Dorcas and sat in the chair indicated. She looked up at Sirius as soon as she was settled again. Meeting his eyes, she tried to smile for him. It should have been easy enough but she couldn't make her face contort that way.

There were new emotions that had pushed away the fear, emotions that she'd never thought about before. Life had always been such that she'd had to think about surviving. For the first time, she had this strange new hope. It hurt almost more than the pain of bruises, though. She could make sure that no one was able to lay a hand on her or that they didn't come upon anyone that hurt them as they got from place to place. That was easy to control. This hope seemed much harder to pin down, as if it would refuse to let her manipulate it. And it was going to hurt a lot more. It was one thing to dream about that little house surrounded by a forest to keep them safe, another thing entirely to be shown the possibility.

Loah finished up his exam before he brought over another chair to sit on so that he could see all three people. "I'm pleased to say that you're going to live. Give me five days of bed rest, and I mean actually staying in bed and not doing anything stupid like running up and down the halls, and I can guarantee you a full recovery. The swelling in your brain has gone down considerably. I have a few potions I want you to take that should do the rest of the job. You've gone through most of the worst parts of that injury but you'll probably have headaches for a while longer, depending on how your body reacts to the potions."

He tried to relax, knowing that his posture was just as important as his words. Since coming here, he'd had to fight to keep his body from tensing up. It was as if he couldn't forgive the building for all that had gone on here over the last twenty years. As much as he wanted to forget it all, he couldn't separate his past, and the past of his friends and family, from this present.

"Those ribs are going to be sore for longer. Any trouble you have with your breathing should clear up soon. You were working on a nasty infection in your left lung but I cleared that up. The spell keeping your ribs stable will slowly wear off, giving them time to heal but I wouldn't do anything to exert them. It's going to be better to let nature do that work for us. Magic might make it worse."

Dorcas saw both of her charges start to protest and she cut them off. There would be time enough for explanations, but she had been on the receiving end of one of Loah's healing spells and knew the exhaustion would be setting in and the boy who was obviously fighting it off was going to lose that battle sooner rather than later. "There are two beds over this way," she said as she gripped the back of the chair Alice was obviously itching to vacate. What she wanted to do was take Loah and help Sirius to the bed but with the frown creasing Alice's face there was a good possibility the girl might actually hex her. She glanced at Loah who nodded and then said, "You should move there before you fall asleep on that table." She turned back to Loah. "Would you please leave them a list of what needs to be taken when? That way they won't forget."

"What potions?" Sirius asked before losing the battle against yawning that he'd been fighting. He groaned as the discomfort spread through his torso again. At least it wasn't a searing pain that made the world tilt on its axis. That was a definite improvement. "And why no healing for the ribs? Alice heals breaks." Speaking of Alice - Sirius gestured her over. He wanted her to come to him again. Now that he could move them appropriately, he wanted her to lay next to him so he could feel her in his arms as he drifted into sleep once again. Something he was sure was coming now that the good doctor, and he really hoped he was a good doctor, had completed all his scanning and spell weaving. "Why can't you heal these? We can't stay in here forever."

"You can stay here for several days. Even a week," Dorcas told them, watching as Alice took Sirius' hand and the two of them eased him off the bed. They worked very well together. She shared a look with Loah. "I've put a charm around the hallways. Even the staff will think they had somewhere else to be if they come close to the door of this room. And since your professors are used to the two of you disappearing, nobody has questioned your absence." Once more, she turned back to Loah. "You'll be leaving extra pain potions, won't you? Yours are so much more effective than Poppy's."

"I've brought enough for this plus some extra. Just in case." Because he knew well what Poppy's potions were like. They were all Ministry approved which meant they were nothing more than some spring water with some mandrake root thrown in for colouring and camomile for taste. He set everything out on the counter, double counting it for good measure. There was double of nearly everything. He wasn't looking for anything bad to happen in the next week but he hated leaving Dorcas without some back ups. It always set his mind at ease.

He glanced over at the two brown bags sitting near the door. "Adi packed enough food for at least three armies. One is for you." He grinned at Dorcas. "There are extra cinnamon rolls in the one on the left."

When Alice turned and walked back toward him, he wasn't sure if he should pull out his wand or not. Hers was still clutched in her hand but he wasn't sure she was aware of that fact. He'd seen that haunted look enough to know that she was only aware of what was keeping her moving forward, without anything left over to concentrate on the little things.

She held out her hand to him. "Thank you, sir. Thank you for fixing him."

Instead of taking it in his, he wrapped his arms around her stiff body. If he and Adi had been able to have children, they would have had one very near to her age. The thought brought a lump to his throat as he contemplated anyone he loved having to live through what these two put up with on a daily basis. When he got home, Gideon would hear him out or tell him what was so important that they were leaving two children to fend for themselves.

"I only finished up what you started. You did a very good job, young lady."

Alice pulled back, breaking all contact with him. There was so much pain in her eyes that he was sorry he'd touched her. "Yes, well, we do what we have to. Thank you again. I'll make sure we don't ruin any of your good work."

Dorcas had reached to stop Loah from embracing Alice but it was too late. She looked away, meeting the weary eyes of Sirius. Afraid her own eyes were reflecting all of the emotions swirling inside of her, she dropped her gaze to the brown bags.

"There's food here, Alice. I'm sure you're both hungry. It's from Loah's wife. She's amazing." She reached out and tugged at Loah's sleeve. "Just give me a minute and then I'll walk you out, yes?" When he nodded, she waited for him to move away before she looked back to Alice's irritable features.

"I'm very sorry that I was not forthright with you. I hope you understand that I always have your best interests at heart. That is my job." She felt like a broken record but she kept hoping that one day, the words would actually penetrate the fortress these two had built up around themselves. "I stocked the shelves over there with books I think that you'll both find useful and there is a wireless box near the beds if you get bored. There are also plenty of game sets to keep you occupied."

She reached into her pocket and withdrew two cards that had only her name engraved on them. "I will be around, but if you need me before hand... Just hold it and think my name." She had given them each numerous cards over the years but they had always ended up in an envelope back on her desk. This time, she hoped the stubborn duo kept them. "It is keyed to me and me alone. There is one for each of you in case you are ever separated." Not that she worried overly much about that. Where one was, the other was sure to be shortly.

Dorcas almost reached out to smooth the hair back from Alice's tired face. She pulled her hand back and stuffed it back into her pocket before her emotions overruled her good sense. "Eat and rest. And I'll be by in a few hours."

With that, she turned and headed for Loah who was waiting by the door. She kept her head up and her jaw set so that she did not break down in front of these two. She would keep her composure until she was alone and then she would allow herself to feel all of the fear and hurt and relief that had run through her in the last few hours. But not until then.

Loah slung his bag over his shoulder, tucking Dorcas' hand into the crook of his arm as she came out to the hall once again, the door closing firmly behind her. His job was only done part of the way. "I could use a cup of tea before I head back. Do you still keep that tea pot that Adi gave you last Christmas in your office? I don't know what it is but that thing makes the best pot of tea I've had anywhere else. Care to indulge me in a cup?"

"Yes. Of course." Though she was about ready to fall apart, she wasn't sure being alone at this moment was the best idea. She might get it into her head to tell Gideon to stuff it and remove these kids from the school without his permission.

Dorcas selfishly took the comfort Loah was offering her. She closed her free hand around his bicep as they headed toward her office. Once they were inside her office, Dorcas set the charms that kept her office from revealing the conversations within. She then set some music to playing while she prepared the tea.

"Thank you so much for healing him, Loah. I've been so worried over the years and have tried to point them in the right direction without drawing too much attention to myself. It's been so frustrating and this year has been so bad. I don't know what's gotten into these kids but they have really increased their efforts to demoralize Sirius. Perhaps because they are so close to the end of term. I told Gideon that I think Black has ordered it because Sirius still hasn't come around and once he is free of this school, she will lose control over him. I think she had the same fear that I do. He will walk out of this school and disappear forever."

The evidence of old injuries was astounding. In both of them. Unbeknownst to Alice, he'd also done a check on her to make sure there wasn't something else wrong with her. Her hip would be prone to more injuries for the rest of her life, thanks to the fact that the joint was weak. If he had to speculate, he would say that she'd been hurt there within the last year and they'd tried to heal it. As with the most current healing spells, it was a matter of having a bit of knowledge without the true basis of the spells. They'd done what they needed to survive.

As had Dorcas. He accepted the cup of tea, blowing on it while he tried to find the right words to say to her. "I can't believe any parent would do this to their own child. It's bad enough that we're not doing anything about it. Just think where they'd be if it wasn't without you. I'm sure they don't even realize how many times you've been able to protect them."

"Black is not a normal parent," she said. "She doesn't care for him as a mother should. Like--" Her voice cracked and she couldn't finish her thought. He was not her child. Neither of them were. But she couldn't help the feelings she had towards them both. She would lay down her life for either them. As a mother should.

"I've given them all the aide I could," she said, staring off at a spot just over Loah's shoulder. Since she'd been unable to earn their trust over the years (something she would forever feel the failure of), she'd planted the majority of her aide in the form of books for Alice to find, charming them so that they only appeared for her. None of the books that Alice had learned from over the years had been Ministry approved and Dorcas would have been tried for crimes against the regime if she'd been found out. But that was her job. To give them what they needed to get them through their time at Hogwarts. To guide them on the right path and encourage them when they lost hope.

"I don't know if it's been enough. And now that we're so close to his birthday, and for him to end up so close to..." She sucked in a sob as her composure finally broke, bringing her hands up to her face to cover the tears that couldn't be hidden. "I don't know what else to do? I don't think I can keep them in that room for the next two weeks."

"Surely there's something we can do." Comforting those in distress was part of his job, something he'd always felt he was good at doing even though he had little practice at it over the past few years. Even he and Adi had grown hardened to their situation and that of those they helped. With his own heart this heavy, he set the cup down and laid a hand on Dorcas' shoulder.

"I'll talk to Gideon again and see if maybe he's come up with any ideas. Perhaps we can keep their minds occupied so that those weeks aren't too strenuous for them. Those cabinets are stocked with all sorts of materials that they can combine without bringing the whole castle down around them. There are potions books and the like. Encourage them to continue their studying. That should tide them over for a bit while we come up with something."

"I worry about somebody getting curious if they're gone that long," she said as she leaned into his touch. "Gideon assures me that he's working on it and that he'll remove Sirius as soon as he possibly can, but what if it's not soon enough, Loah? And what if next time..." She hiccoughed and shook her head.

"I wish I could have gained their trust. Maybe then I could have done something more. Helped them to train, taught them to fight. It's one thing to learn it in a book, another to practice the movements and incantations."

Loah shook his head slowly, trying to think of ways that Dorcas could have done something different. He'd been part of this since the beginning and knew, with a certainity, that she'd done everything she could to the best of her ability.

"Trust might have been detrimental, though. When you assume that there's someone there to help, you don't always react as quickly. The girl was ready to hex me. You could see it in her eyes. What if I had been bent on killing her? And what if she trusted you but couldn't tell that you were compromised? You mourn their innocence but it saved them that they couldn't bring themselves to trust anyone but themselves. You did what you could, Dorcas. Don't tempt fate with what you might or might not have done."

They were words that Loah hadn't said to her before, but it still eased some of the tightness in her chest. Dorcas nodded. "You're right, Loah. I'm sorry I got all blubbery on you. I'm just..." But she didn't know what she was. Tense? Yes. Worried? Of course. She'd spent the last seven years of her life in nearly a constant state of worry. But it just felt different this year. It was so hard to see Sirius in the state he'd been in when they'd found him crumpled at Alice's feet.

"They've learned a lot. I'm so proud of them but I can't help but mourn the childhood they missed out on. When you look into Alice's eyes, it's like looking into the eyes of any member of The Group. Aged beyond her years. Jaded and hard. She wasn't like that when she first arrived. It's just sad. And I'm still so worried about them. The closer we get to his birthday, the stronger my worry grows." She could rationalize just about anything in this world, but unfortunately, her heart wouldn't be calmed by her head's logic when it came to those two kids.

Dorcas turned and offered a teary smile. "But I know you're right. And I thank you for sitting with me even though I know that the Beach House needs you." She reached up and patted the hand on her shoulder. "You're such a good man, Loah Figge. And a great friend."

Loah stood up and pulled her into a hug. "The people at the Beach House don't need me any more than you do at the moment. We don't see you as often as we want to these days. You don't visit." He held her at arms length, shaking her slightly. "That means you're carrying this alone. No one was ever asked to carry their burden alone when they came to work with the Group. Come to dinner, Dorcas. Come and let us take some of your burden from you."

"I--" She sniffed and shook her head. "Not tonight, but maybe I'll be able to later in the week," she told him even though she knew it was a lie. Just as she always did, she would find a reason not to come home for even a night. She couldn't take the chance that Alice might reach out to her and she wouldn't be here. Though, with the kids in the Room of Requirement now, perhaps she wouldn't have to worry about their safety quite as much. She trusted in her own ability to keep people away at least for the next week. After that, it might be more difficult, but for this week, they were safe.

She frowned. "Let me see how they settle today and then we can talk about dinner." Dorcas pulled him back into a hug. "Give Adi a kiss from me and tell her thank you for the food."

"What I'm going to tell her is that she needs to make more cinnamon rolls because I know for a fact that she put every last one of them in those bags." Loah laid his cheek on the top of her head, wishing he could do more to help her. It hurt him to see her so torn up about this. Cam would chide him for letting the job get to him but at least his brother was able to go enact change when he saw a wrong that needed to be righted. All Loah could do was use his words and that always came to naught. "But she's going to want to hear that thank you in person, you know. She doesn't accept them when they come second hand. Nor in a letter. In person, young lady. That's an order."

"I promise to give Adi an in face thank you." Just when that would be didn't need to be addressed right now. With one last squeeze, Dorcas pulled away from him.

"You go and get yourself some cinnamon rolls and I'm going to find whatever Adi made me for lunch and then maybe see if a properly filled belly can lull me into some semblance of sleep." She took his barely touched tea cup and dumped it into the small sink, and then turned and gave him as strong of a smile as she could muster. "I think a nap will do me some good."

"It can't hurt." Loah slung his bag back over his shoulder once again. "I suppose it was time I got back to work and earned my keep once again. Not that it wasn't lovely to see you again, my dear. Nor that I won't come any other time you need me. As always, you have my promise to that end. Be sure to remind the Young Prince of my instructions." He winked. "I'd hate for him to be forced to spend another five days on bed rest just because he couldn't obey a simple command."

Dorcas' smile grew. "He'll mind," she replied. "Alice won't have it any other way." Of that she was certain.


End file.
